


Know My Heart

by MeeMaw



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aunt/Nephew Incest, Barristan Selmy is alive & is queensguard, Cheesy, F/M, Fluff, Possessive Jon Snow, R Plus L Equals J, Rickon Stark/Meera Reed - Freeform, Rickon/Meera chapter 27 only, Slow Burn, Targaryen Incest, Targaryen Restoration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 18:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 59,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15588423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeeMaw/pseuds/MeeMaw
Summary: This is a Jonerys love-story in which before Jon meets Daenerys, he knows (and accepts) his Targaryen heritage. Not based on politics and war. The story is about Jon and Daenerys’ internal struggles and flirtatious squabbles. It begins from the day they meet and ends in the same place, another time.I am deeply carried over with your memory,that fleeting and joyful ones, which always still have the certain grandeur in me;if you take this heart of mine, it will be yours;for I am made of those veins,those beating pulses,those blood that flows in unison with your mind.— Chuck Akot,“The certain grandeur in me.”





	1. Just Like That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> R + L = J reveal for Jon and Dany.
> 
> You have been warned! 
> 
> Nah, just kidding, it aint that deep really.
> 
> Its not the main focus of my fic but it might ball-park answer some of your questions. Or create more confusion if i'm unlucky.

 

_**The North, Winterfell** _

 

_Lord Howland Reed brought forward an oakwood box with the three-headed dragon of the House Targaryen embossed on it._

_Jon looked at him quizzingly. Sansa and Arya looked at Jon with a soft, pleading look that held love and sympathy in equal measure. 'They know what this holds.' Jon mused.  
_

_Inside the box was a High Septon’s official declaration of marriage between the Prince of Dragonstone, Rhaegar Targaryen and the Wolf Maid Of Winterfell, Lyanna Stark. The witnesses to this union were Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswell Whent and Lord Commander Ser Gerold Hightower of His Grace’s Kingsguard. The parchment had seals of the Kingsguard and of the Prince of Dragonstone and their signatures._

_Jon’s gaze went wide with bewilderment, his mind in a disarray. He held a knowing but disbelieving look in his eyes._

_Lord Reed then removed two rings from the box and presented those to Jon. “These are your family heirlooms. This ring belonged to the Prince of Dragonstone. It is yours by right. Your mother and your father meant for you to have it. This other one was the bride’s gift to your mother by your father." Lord Reed's eyes became numb and there was a sense of immeasurable grief in the old man's voice. He then broke the solemn silence, "Lady Lyanna named you Aegon Targaryen in her deathbed. I hope they found each other in the afterlife.” Sadness filled the room and as if the air had been sucked out of his lungs, Jon withheld his tears and tightly grasped the two rings in his palm.  
_

_In his other life, he had played around the statue of his mother, she had stood guard in the crypts with a sad smile on her face. He knew naught of his sire, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen._

 

**Dragonstone**

 

Jon had traveled south with a small contingent of northerners. Second or third sons of major houses, household guards, a representative from the Wall, his friend Tormund, and Ser Davos.

Their reception had been mostly warm and cordial. Except for the part where they had been politely coaxed into surrendering their weapons.

_The mistrust is mutual._ Jon observed. _  
_

The queen had offered them bread and salt and pledged to uphold the sacred law of guest right.

They had been provided suitable accommodations, arrangements meticulously overseen by the queen’s confidante, Missandei.

The following evening, Jon requested a small, private audience with the queen, facilitated by Tyrion of House Lannister. Ser Barristan Selmy had stood guard, like an unmoving shadow.

After a formal exchange of courtesies, Jon requested Ser Davos to bring forth the box. It was Ser Davos who unveiled its contents and detailed how it had come into their possession.

Jon was unable to read Daenerys’ response. With a heavy heart, she slid into a chair and requested Ser Barristan to examine the contents of the box to the best of his ability. She took the ring reverently in her hand and gently ran her fingers on the inner side of it, intently looking for something.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Jon said before he turned around to leave.

 

 

Jon was idly flexing the fingers of his sword hand when Daenerys knocked on his chamber doors.

“May I come in?”

“It's your castle, Your Grace. You don’t have to ask.”

She closed the door behind him. Jon glanced Ser Barristan waiting outside with his sword hand on the pommel of his sword.

“Every boy who has ever held a sword wants to be him” he tried to break the awkward silence.

“Not Ser Arthur?” she asked inquisitively

“Ser Arthur is not alive now, is he.”

“No, he is not.”

“Are you here to lay your claim?”

“Claim to what?”

“To House Targaryen, to Dragonstone, to the iron throne, to Westeros? You tell me.” She should feel threatened but she didn’t.

_I could argue with her on this. Where are my armies? Dragons? War galleys?_

“No your grace. I claim nothing”

“Then why?”

Jon closed his eyes. He did not want to do this anymore. _Do I have to spend my entire life justifying and apologizing for the circumstances of my birth?_

“Whether you wish it or not, the great war is coming and you will be the one fighting it, with or without my aid. Should you allow me to help you, there will be times when you will have to trust me with everything you hold dear. I am seeking much and more from you. I would prefer not to begin with secrets and deceits.” He said getting a hold on his emotions.

“And is that all?”

_And I wished to meet you, my lost family, just once in my life._

“That is all, Your Grace.”

“Do you know a Lady Melisandre?”

“Aye. Unfortunately.”

“Why did you banish her?”

“Because I could not behead her.” Jon lowered his head, feeling agonized that he couldn't bring an innocent child's murderer to justice.

Melisandre had told Daenerys of the resurrected Prince That Was Promised. How he took a knife in his heart, gave up his life and was brought back by the grace of the Red God. She had confessed her horrendous crime against Shireen Baratheon adding that she had been looking for salvation ever since.

“May I look at the scars?” Her voice was tender and she glanced at his chest very briefly.

_Why_? Jon hated this. That was clear from his eyes. It was painful and humiliating.

Closing his eyes, his hand slowly crept up to find the laces of his gambeson.

“Don’t!” was all she said, dreadfully. With shimmering eyes, she then turned around and summoned Ser Barristan inside. _Arstan, the dragons are returned_.

“Good Ser, the Prince of Dragonstone is home. We must return his sword back.”

 “As you command, Your Grace.”

“The _valuables_ the Prince brought with him will remain in my safekeeping for now.”

_Just like that._


	2. Scent of his beloved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, if you ask me, I presume this was quite early on in their acquaintance. May be as early as 2-3 weeks after Jon arrived.

The cold had been spreading its tentacles to the rest of Westeros including the island of Dragonstone.

Jon and Daenerys meandered through the Aegon’s Garden marvelling at the myriad of flowers that grew there and the roses, especially the roses.

They stopped in their steps when Jon noticed something unusual.

“Do you like it Jon?” she asked hopefully.

“I.. How..?” He did not know what to say. He looked between Dany and the roses.

“I had requested Lady Sansa to send some of these from the North." She offered proudly.

"I was worried they would not fare well and die on their way south or not take root in this foreign climate. But the gardener says, they’ll survive. It was thoughtful of Lady Sansa to send plenty of soil as well from the glass gardens." she sounded almost relieved that the roses had survived.

"I was hoping this would make you feel closer to your northern home Jon. I know you must miss it.” Her voice was comforting.

“Thank you Daenerys. You did not have to do it. But thank you.” He was too overwhelmed to say much. He hesitantly hugged her and stepped back to admire a piece of Winterfell blooming before his eyes.

“I am told Queen Lyanna loved her winter roses. This place had been her home even though she could never visit here.” She added with regret. “It is only fitting that part of her should live on the island of her beloved Prince.”

She bent down to pluck a rose and carefully picked the thorns with her nails. “Happy name day Jon.” She kissed him on his cheek offering him a rose, blue as winter frost. They silently stood there in reverence for what seemed like eternity. Jon swallowed a lump in his throat. His eyes were glassy. He adored Daenerys in that moment. _Where have you been all my life Daenerys?_

“Oh don't look so glum. We have a feast to celebrate.” She twined her arm around his and pulled him out of his thoughts.

When Jon turned around to look back, he saw blue winter roses interspersed with the crimson red ones. From a distance one could almost mistake them for blue sapphires and rubies. _The_ _Winter Rose had found her way to her beloved._

They reached a spot at the far end of tall dark trees and towering thorny hedges that was lit with lanterns and candles. A large table was laid out with food, fruits, varieties of cheese and wine. The place was fragrant with scent of pine wood and ..something else.

_Jasmine. It was the pleasant scent of jasmines. From where? Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the chapter length. Please don't slay me for this chapter was too short. Even by my standards it was short * face palm *
> 
> if its any comfort, I poured my heart in it ❤️


	3. Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany offers Jon a choice. Two choices actually.

Jon had been reading the _Jade Compendium_ when Daenerys entered the library at Dragonstone.

“Here.” She opened her palm and offered him the ring he had brought with him.

Jon tilted his head slightly and looked at it. He had almost forgotten about it.

“You never asked it back.”

Jon didn’t answer.

She raised her brow, “I had it cleaned.”

She then looked at him tenderly and asked, “You never even tried it on. Why?”

“It looked too big. I might have lost it someplace.” _I_ _carry enough burdens. You carry our house’s legacy, I’m tired._

“If you say so.” What was the point of disputing.

“Do you know what the engravings inside the ring mean?”

“Never saw any.”

At that she cackled. “You really should worn it. Once at least?”

“You see this, here, it says Perzys Ānogār. It’s high Valyrian, language of our ancestors, and in common tongue it means Fire and Blood. Those are the words of your father’s house.”

_Remember your words Jon._

“Try it on.” He turned his palm upside down and extended his arm in her general direction. She slipped the ring on his little finger. It fit perfectly. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

_Could her eyes get any more radiant?_

“What if I lose it?”

“It’s yours to save or lose. It’s meant to be worn proudly and not hidden away.”

“And what will you give your children if I lost it? Will you curse me?” he jested.

Daenerys stiffened. Then she smiled. “You’re my heir Jon. And your heirs will be mine too.”

“Children.”

“What?”

“Children, not heirs. My children will be yours too and yours, mine.”

_Ah. What? Think of a good excuse and leave Daenerys Targaryen. Think._

She cleared her throat and spoke in a soft, polite voice, “I have sent out invites to the wardens of all kingdoms and to the citadel for participating in a small celebration here at Dragonstone. They will be here in a moon’s time. I shall announce your trueborn status to the realm and officially proclaim you my heir. No one knows it yet though. Except Ser Barristan and Tyrion of course. I shall be sending a raven to the Lord Rickon Stark of Winterfell of my intensions. I do not want Lady Sansa to be ambushed by her bannermen.”

Jon looked dumbfounded.

She paused briefly and then slipped a parchment towards him. “You need to choose a name. I must get the details to your family first. As it is they have a lot to deal with. Also, should the north decide to appoint a new commander of the northern armies in view of your heritage, they will continue to receive the crown’s complete and unwavering support.”

“I will still fight this war Daenerys, you do know that, right?”

“I know. That is why I am also giving you the sole command of all my armies. You have the freedom to appoint or relocate people as per your requirements.”

“The people here know you. The northerners know you, obviously. When time comes, you would have eased into your role.” She makes it all seem so unchallenging.

Jon simply nodded. He was too overwhelmed to say anything.

“What if I choose ‘Jon Snow’ or ‘Jon Stark’?”

“Alright. Both are good names. But choose one. Write it on the parchment. Fill out the other details. We have to send raven at first light”

“You don’t mind?”

“Why would I?”

At that, Jon inhaled calmly.

“Although, if I may, I request you consider naming your children Targaryen.” She held her breath and waited for his response.

Jon responded matter-of-factly, “Who else would they be?” and went back to reading.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think I should organize these chapters in some sort of chronological order or must I go with the flow and post as I write? Majority wins! No matter how valid your reasons are :))
> 
> I never ever imagined I would receive such a response. Its truly overwhelming. 
> 
> If, more like when, my writing goes off the cliff, do remind me to stop, breathe and then come back. I'd really appreciate it.


	4. Just Like That

 

**Dragonstone**

They spent most of their time and suppers in company of advisors. Daenerys had formed an advisory council comprising of the northern lords who had traveled with Jon, her allies from the Dorne and the Reach, emissaries of the major Houses that had rallied in support of House Targaryen, commanders of her armies and their second in line too. The interests of the freefolk and the Dothraki were looked after through inclusion of Tormund and a young girl who was earlier a part of the Dosh Khaleen.

There was planning and preparation, bitter arguments as well at times. This was the way of ruling. Everyone needed to be heard. Daenerys realized that she would require the support of the major houses of Westeros if she wanted her reign to be peaceful and rebellion free. She did not want to waste her resources in making wars and quelling rebellions. She would take their help and start building Westeros one village at a time. Aegon the Unlikely had tried to bring reforms that favoured the smallfolk but those were quickly undone by a subsequent Hand to the King, she told Jon. She hoped to bring long lasting changes. She had learnt from her experiences in the Dragons Bay and was determined to not make the same mistakes or fall in similar traps.

Every once in a few days they would excuse themselves and hidden away from the eyes of others, they would find their way to the Dragons Lair, the cliff where their dragon retreated for their slumber, place they had made their own. Just theirs, the dragons’ and of the blood of the dragons. No one would dare creep up on them unannounced in such a dangerous place.

They would carry their own wine and goblets. Dried fruits to nibble at times. Once they brought a freshly roasted rabbit but the dragons got a whiff of it and well, that was that.

Jon would always bring an extra furs to spread them on the grass and they used both or one of their cloaks to shelter themselves from the winds. Depending upon how chilly it got by the time their wine and their tales finished. They could ask for appropriate arrangements but it occurred to them that it was more agreeable. It did not take much for them to learn significant things about each other, their beginnings had been humble and their longing for family was greater than any thrones or victories in their lives.

“Now what? “

“Nothing”

“It’s not nothing. You’re intently thinking of something. You know you bite your lower lip when you try to hide your thoughts or when something is bothering you”

At that, Daenerys smiled the most beautiful and mesmerizing smiles a woman can give. She lowered her eyes at first and then then look at him. As though she was looking into his soul. “I'm trying to find my brother in you. “

Jon felt his heart sink. “I'm afraid my father left nothing of him in me. You'll be rather disappointed.”

“I would never be disappointed in you, I’m sure. And no, a father always leaves a part of him in his son. Yes, you're born of him. But that is not all, he must live in you. He has to. Otherwise what’s the point.” She said to herself more than him. “He did the impossible to have you. Everything he did, every decision he made..” her thoughts trailed.

_Things that led him to his doom and of the ones he loved. Does she blame me for the loss of her family?_

Jon's sorrowful eyes met hers. He did want to know how his father looked like. If he would be disappointed in him of what he has become? He is no Prince. He does not know how to be one. And Rhaegar, Rhaegar was a legend.

“I saw him at the House of the Undying.” She almost heard his thoughts.

Offering him tangerine and peaches rolled in sea salt and honey, she said “You’re more than your name Jon. You're not a shadow of the father who sired you or the one who raised you. You're you. But can you really fault a girl for trying to know her family. People talk of how handsome he was. Or what a valiant, honourable warrior he was. They speak of his kindness. That he sang beautifully. You know, they say maidens swooned over him. And they cried when he sung one of his haunting melodies. I only ever wished to know him.” Sadness filled her voice as she lowered her head.

Her thoughts were incoherent. It was unlike her. He took both her hands in his, gazed into her purple eyes and again asked her, “what happened Daenerys. Is everything alright?”.

“Ser Barristan told me after the council meeting that you sound so much like Rhae. Your voice is all his, he says.”

A single tear spilled from her violet eyes. She tried to look away.

 _Must I envy my father now Daenerys?_ He wanted to say.

“You know, I miss him too. I do not know him, but I do miss him in my life. Him and my mother, both. Tell me of him, his other brother, you sire and your mother, and” with a timid voice, “of his other family”, he said softly.

He knew it hurt her. He also knew she adored the brother she had never met. It was her older brother she tried to emulate. He was her pride. _And he was my father_. I may not have met the man and the northerners did not have a favourable opinion of him, but what do they know. What did they know of the Dragon Prince's heart. Of his joys and his sorrows. Of his melancholy ..

He gingerly moved closer to Daenerys and took her one hand in his as they both looked at the sunset. She pulled his hand in her lap and spread her fingers and he twined his in between giving a gentle squeeze.. He was trying to understand a part of himself that he had not known. It may not hold any importance in future in the great war or even afterwards. Hells, he may not even survive any of it. However, Jon wanted to know himself and the people who gave him life. Lord Reed told him all he could about his mother. He wished to know his other family too. The one that was not Stark. They were as formidable as they come. Well, he might have wanted to know them even if they were peasants. _Never forget who you are bastard, for the world would never let you forget_... Daenerys moved even closer to him with not even the air between them.

The fires were almost extinguished by the time they both were done telling tales long forgotten. She too did not know him, Rhaegar, but she trusted Ser Barristan. He would never lie. He was too honourable to do so. There was some truth in what Viserys told her of Rhaegar. He did not seem overly fond of the older brother whom he almost blamed for their nomadic state.

They were rediscovering their identity and their place in this world, one question, one anecdote at a time.

Their tears they had not bothered wiping had dried on their cheeks and the night felt bitter cold. They both felt the loss of what could have been. They had to grow up too fast. Never having lived a childhood befitting a Prince or a Princess of a great dynasty. Yes, there had been a Maegor the cruel and a mad king Aerys. But there was King Jaehaerys and his brother, their father Aegon, the warrior Queens of Aegon, Daenerys' mother and Rhaegar..him most of all.

“They say I take after my Queen mother and my older brother in looks and traits.” She almost regretted it when she spoke. “I mean, in case you were wondering…”

“Ah, yes, I do sometimes wonder what he must have looked like. There are no paintings or statues of him as I recall. My mother lies in the crypts at Winterfell. I will take you to her if you ever travel up north.” For some reason, he looked away though. “Your mother must have been a handsome lady. I can tell why my brother fell in love with her. She would have made a good queen” was all she could say and her reward was a glowing smile from Jon. They then sat in silence.

Jon looked at her silver tresses as she rest her head on his shoulder. He could only see her eye lashes and her rose coloured cheek from here. _Too close_. She was warm and comforting, and smelled of flowers. He pulled her closer. Picked up his fur cloak from where they had dropped it when they arrived at the cliff hours ago and wrapped it around the two of them. Shared their silence some more.

She did not let go of his hand and tightened her grip over his fingers still tightly entwined with hers as if she was afraid of being alone again. Jon slowly nudged her, put an arm around her and his eyes spoke. His eyes held all the warmth in the world and the promise of protection. At least as much as he could offer. He looked around and kissed the top of her head. Though he was skeptical if she would take offense, her soft smile and eyes returned the warmth, belonging and safety he too had been searching for all his life.

Their legs were stiff from all those hours of sitting. Jon helped her stand up and she chuckled at her clumsy attempt at walking gracefully. He immediately held her close and helped her to her chambers ignoring the unsullied and the Dothraki guarding the halls as they walked.

Jon bid her a good night and as he was about to turn and walk away, she called back, "Jon," he turned and looked at her. There was softness in her tone. If he wasn't drunk, he'd swear he felt a tinge of timidity in her voice. “Would you mind it very much if I requested you to occupy Visenya's chambers? I mean, they're closer to mine. And it would be nice to have you live close by so long as you are here. You could leave some of your belongings here.. for when you return home the next time.” Her voice trailed off. Jon raised his brow, with a hint of smirk and a bit suggestively when she realised that she had been occupying Aegon's chambers. She understood his insinuation and giggled like a little girl at that moment. "No, not that" tilting her head slightly, "It’s just that.. this place is as much yours as mine” She regained composure, “and wasn’t Visenya one of the mightiest warriors of our family? You would be in good company." She seemed proud of herself as she said it aloud with haughtiness that Jon had come to adore.

 _Family_ , Jon thought. She really does consider me her family. I do not have much to offer. I ask much and more of her and... he consciously broke his train of thoughts. He would be lost if he walked that line. So he just said, "I would love that very much". The smile she gave at that moment would light up the rest of his days, he knew.

 

 


	5. Clarifications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually trying to list the assumptions I have made in this fic.

  


 This is the background of my story:

1.     Dany does think she might not bear any children. She NEVER says it out loud. It’s just the subtle hints and indirect references through which Jon understood. Like she says that Jon would be her heir and his children after him. Jon is smart. He understands.

‘Dragons are the only children I’ll have’ OR ‘I can’t have children’ was NEVER spoken between them.

It can never be easy to be able to say it out loud.

2.     They both understand they need to get married at some point. To someone. They have been amusing Tyrion by letting him try and find a suitable match for Dany first. Tyrion has been failing at it though.

Jon has fewer burdens regarding things like legacy and family names and is determined to marry her at some point. He never proposed so far. Why? We will come to it at some point. Let them dance around it for now. Dany never asked him coz, why should she? She is old fashioned. Also, she gets cold feet whenever she thinks of heirs and houses.

3.     The north is part of seven kingdoms. Cersei is gone. North did not seceded after Starks re-took Winterfell. Rickon is the Lord. Sansa his regent. Arya and Bran are at Winterfell.

4.     Will get to the issue of ‘northern independence’ in a different backstory. It makes sense, really. Am writing it gradually and then request/plead/beg CallMeDeWitt to beta it or co-author it if they have time. It will need their expertise. Else it’ll be all over the place, much like this one *face-palm again*

5.     They are both in love with each other. It happened over a period of time. It was not before they even met or at first sight. It started with desire to know their family, then mutual attraction (can’t deny they are extremely good looking) and gets better by the day.

6.     Please try not to look at it like a proper story with a beginning, middle and end. You will feel disappointed. It’s more like a collection of their little one shots. Ask questions please if something is too vague. I’ll try to address it. 

7.     It’s their journey to finding love, of knowing each other’s heart. A Dance of the Dragons if you will. Happy dance, not the rebellion!

8.     You will notice, in my writing, Jon is never Jon Snow or Jon Stark or Aegon Targaryen. He is unconcerned about titles and bloodlines and is confident and happy. ‘She’ is never ‘aunt’, 'he' is never ‘nephew’. I consciously try and avoid those terms here.

Jon was called Egg, just once (ref Chapter # 6. Title, Aegon?).

9.     About Drogo and Daario, he knows. Dany does not hate them. They were a part of her life. Nothing can change it. Same for Ygritte. But Jon and Dany neither pine over their past nor think of it much. Maybe I can include it in a he said-she said chapter. They accept their pasts and move on.

Dany never compares her exes with Jon. Not even when he is much better than them. Same for Jon. 

10.  I am doing this to bring a smile to my readers. Jon/Dany fans and romantics of all kinds. If this is tying you in knots, then I have failed.

11\. At some point Jon and Dany have to fight in the great war. For now, they are strengthening their defenses and amassing resources.

12\. Viserion is alive and well. Playing with his brothers. So are Ghost and Nymeria.

13\. Tyrion is a politician.

14.  Questions?

 

So Ao3 recently provide this amazing feature & thanks to it, I am re-ordering my chapters. Hopefully that would provide some sort of chronological order to the work.

 

Chapter 5 will remain here coz its referenced in footnotes of a few other chapters.

 

   
  
---


	6. Aegon?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same place, another meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first chapter I had ever written. 
> 
> Jon's Targ name here is Aegon. Most people are not fond of it. But I would not argue with a dying mother *hugs for Lyanna*. I do not have problems with Aegon even though Jae sounds better.
> 
> Only coz the fandom is so supportive of the first time writers, i have gathered courage to post this one.

They were sitting by the cliffside. She had been tired the past few days and Jon had been mining alongside his men so she had her helpers lay soft featherbed mattresses and pillows, erected a white coloured pavilion that looked silver gold with the fires lit beneath it. The dragons were sprawled a safe distance away. And she had Jon. Jon would protect me. It was strange for her to think that way. Pleasantly strange. They watched as Rhaegal and Drogon took to the skies and flew east.

“Can I call you Egg?” she suddenly asked offering him his goblet of Essosi wine. Jon did not enjoy the Arbour Gold as much. Too sweet for his liking.

“Humm? Why?”

“You’re Aegon and all younger Aegons were lovingly called Egg by their family.”

She makes up things sometimes in her head. Small, harmless joys that she would have learnt if she really lived with her large family. Parents, brothers, good-sisters, nieces and nephews. That was not to be. She had made a family for herself in her imagination and dreams. She was trying to live those dreams through Jon.

“How do you know?” Jon asked, only half curious.

“I just know! I always thought I would marry an Aegon.” The words slipped from her tongue before she could think.

Jon did not ask anything further.

He knew there was another Aegon. His father’s first son. He gulped down his wine in one breath and poured himself another one.

“I’m older than you, you know.”

“Perhaps.”

“Not perhaps, I am.”

“Maybe. But you’re bickering like a child right now.” Daenerys was pretending to be miffed with him.

“It takes two to bicker.” Jon too was enjoying playing this game.

She huffed. Annoyed. “Can’t you give me this?”

_I’d give the world to you Daenerys, if I could._

He smiled, with his eyes this time, stoking the fire that lit before them. “Yes, you may call me Egg if you really wish to.”

She did not know what came over her. She hugged him tightly. Jon could smell the jasmine in her hair. Oh, they were soft, like the finest silk. Like serene waves of the seas.

“I won’t if you don’t like it.” She said as she withdrew her hands to her knees, twining her fingers.

“In your voice, I think I might come to like it." He answered in a whisper. But she heard him. She always hears him. _You could call me a mule and I’d like it._ But she won’t. She wasn’t like that.

“You could call me Dany if you like.” She said in a soft voice, sipping her wine. Her cheek red from the chill. _Or was she shy? Uneasy?_ Looking all coy and with a tenderness that made a man forget she was a fearless queen who rode dragons and led her armies to victories.

Jon had rarely seen this side of her with anyone else. Daenerys was slightly informal with those who had accompanied her from Essos. She held a queenly façade still. She had been polite and courteous most of the time. There was a regal air about her and it was not possible to forget that she was a queen through and through. However, at that moment, she looked like a young girl that she was. Life had been unfair to them both. How easy was it for people around them to forget how young they were. These burdens and dark times should not be theirs.

“No one calls you Dany.”

“No, not anymore. And no one calls you Egg.” She pulled herself from feeling sour. “So it could be our little secret. Something personal, something exclusive.”

“I don’t want secrets. Not when it comes to you.” Was all he managed to say.

Her eyes widened and her heart lurched. “What are you proposing Egg?” She teased him.

“Nothing.” _Nothing yet._

“I’d rather call you Daenerys. I like your name.”

“I’ll call you Jon then. I love your name too.”

_What did she just say?_

Before Jon could ask, she had started walking towards Viserion who was curled on the cliff, watching them with his molten gold eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank you all for your encouragement.
> 
> Please do not be mean/rude to other people who comment on my fic. I personally feel I am letting them down even though they're big gals/guys and can handle themselves better than I can. 
> 
> Arguments and opinions are always welcome.
> 
> Making changes. Thanks to iia_ao3ac and esm3rald .


	7. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a wedding at Dragonstone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember they occupy adjacent bed chambers now? Of course they spend more time in each other's company without having to be under other people's scrutiny. That helped. Really! 
> 
> Blame(or adore) Lillian81 for Jon occasionally calling her Dany.

**Blue**

“Danyyy!” he slurred. “Do you ever sleep? What hour is it?”

“To answer your first question, no. I haven’t slept very well since I’ve been here. Now that I think of it, I haven’t had a peaceful night’s sleep since I was a little girl.”

“What was your second question?”

“Never mind. You know, I liked it so much better when you used to knock on my door before barging in.” he said adjusting his furs and turning on his side.

“I didn’t take the door.” She said pointing to an inner chamber. “There’s a secret passage between Aegon and Visenya’s chambers. I can come and go as I please and no one will find out” she admitted vainly.

“Now why would one need a secret passage… oh” _this is not good_.

 “Qhorro is getting married to Morri today. Dothraki weddings ceremonies start early and run late into the nights. I would like you to come with me.”

“Who is Qhorro?”

“He is the brother to Qhono.”

“And who is Qho… forget I asked” he tugged at his furs and pulled them even closer.

“Tyrion has cleared our day. He is determined to get piss drunk and hopes to start early on his mission. Those were his words, not mine.”.

“Earlier than morning?” Jon added frustratingly.

“Wake up now, we need to prepare. What are you going to wear?”

“I’m awake, can’t you see.” He just doesn’t seem to find a good position for lying down.

“You need to be out of bed. We have to choose a color for your attire.”

“Stop pulling my furs Daenerys!”

She narrowed her eyes in slits and was about to yell at him when the realization stuck.

Her mouth just formed an O.

Jon sunk his face in his pillow and growled.

“Could you please give me an hour?”

“An hour?!! Do not fool yourself, my Prince” she teased.

 _Oh, you vixen!_ “I’ll find you in your chambers. Now go! Please?”

She was back before an hour. This time she knocked. “Have you decided on a color?”

“No, why? What’s wrong with black?” he asked innocently.

“You always wear black. How about red?” _Or violet. Violet on grey would look ravishing! She mused to herself.  
_

“What? NO! I’ll look like a flaming sword. I could wear grey though. Or brown.”

 _Flaming sword indeed_! Daenerys smirked. “Speaking of swords, you don’t have to carry yours today. The unsullied will protect us both. And no, not grey. It doesn’t bring out the colour of your eyes. Grey on grey isn’t very alluring. No browns either.”

_Are you telling me you look into my eyes now?_

Jon threw his arms in air, “Fine, you tell me what to wear then.”

“Blue! I’ll wear the same.”

“So there wasn’t really a choice to begin with, right?”

She just bit the inside of her cheek and smiled. They broke fast together and walked the castle halls aimlessly for some time ..

Daenerys then went to her chambers to dress appropriately for the wedding feast. When she returned, Jon’s jaw hit the floor. She wore a flowy, sky blue, silver and ivory gown with silver armlets and her mother’s ring. A sapphire studded dragon-bone pin clutched her gown at the middle of her breasts. Her hair shimmered from where he stood. Her hair were left loose down her back, tiny several silver and bronze Dothraki bells clutched strands of it forming a beautiful mesh on the back.

Jon did not know where to look.

“Do you like it?”

“You look beautiful.”

_You look like sin, my love._

She was helping him tie the laces of his tunic. It was a dark shade of blue silk embellished with silver embroidery. And, she was agonizingly close. He could feel the heat of her breath on him. And jasmine. Her hair always smelled of jasmine. “Dany”, he whispered, “hmm” she replied, paying no mind to words. 

“You’re too close.” His neck was the color crimson of their house and so was her face.

Jon thanked the Gods when Ser Barristan cleared his throat aloud warning them of the arriving escort party. Daenerys walked outside first. Jon needed a moment.

“You look lovely your grace. Where’s the Prince?”

Jon overheard her, “He’s looking for a shield.”

_Ugh! I should have stayed dead._

The wedding ceremony itself did not make it any easier for him.

Semi-clad women danced suggestively around the new couple. Their unconcealed couplings and overt gestures were making Jon shift uncomfortably. Clearly, the Dothraki were uninhibited people.

If Daenerys had noticed his discomfort, she did not say anything. Just kept her eyes straight. Thank the Gods.

It was just after dusk when she leaned to her side and asked pointedly, “Looks like Missandei did not get your measurements right. You have been uncomfortable all day, Jon”. Her doe eyes twinkled in the moonlight and all Jon could do at the time was let out a low grunt. His eyes were surely a shade darker now. _Can you see what you do to me?_

“Oh look, the stars are out.” She pointed to the skies. Instead, he gazed into her eyes.

“It is time they consummate their union.”

 _You’re not helping Dany_ , he wanted to scream. Instead, he foolishly said, “you seem to know an awful lot about Dothraki weddings.”

She did not respond or look at him.

 _She had been married to a Dothraki Khal once,_ he remembered. Well, that worked like a dip in iced water.

Jon walked her back to her chambers. Ser Selmy kept a respectable distance.

“Daenerys, sleep well.”

“You too, Jon.”

“You can wake me up anytime if you cannot sleep. Don’t go wandering about the castle on your own.”

“Thank you” She gently placed her hands on his elbows, rose on her toes, gave him a soft kiss on his cheek, smiled warmly, and walked away.

‘Should I ask her if she would care to join me for a cup of wine?’ Jon mused. _Too late._ He heard her door clink.

“Good night my prince.” Ser Barristan tried to look impassive.

_‘What are you smiling at, Ser?’_

He waited for her to come to him that night. She didn’t. Not until sleep took him and he dreamt of the girl with moonglow in her hair and stars in her eyes.


	8. Safety

Daenerys was usually working until late with her advisors on the matters of politics, resource allocation and responding to petitions of lords and smallfolk alike. The Red Keep had been damaged during the war with Cersei and the harbor city was being rebuilt. The seat of ruling was to be Dragonstone until the great war was won. Only then, they would get to the reconstruction of the Keep.

Jon spent more time with tasks related to battle strategies and positions of their armies. Troops' rotation and appointments of reliable local battle commanders, mining progress and overseeing the forging of battle armour and weapons.

He had also been overseeing negotiations with the Iron Bank in order to secure funds for their rebuilding efforts. The bankers had initially been wary of the Targaryen queen due to the dark history between the dragonlords and the former slaves. However, they were more accommodating since Jon had once dealt with Tycho Nestoris and made arrangements with the envoy to borrow from the Iron Bank so the Night's Watch could buy food and supplies to see them through the approaching winter.

On some days both Daenerys and Jon would escape to their no-so-secret-anymore getaway and enjoy gazing at the stars or talk about their day or just sit in silence and share their wine.

Jon would sometimes find her reading a very large tome on old Valyria or the ones on the politics of the seven kingdoms since and before they were one, in her newly renovated library. He would then quietly pull out another tome and read silently sitting next to her.

Jon wanted to understand battle strategies for making warfare in mountainous and snowy terrains. _Daenerys must know all that is there to know of dragon warfare._ Even though that was the last thing he ever wanted to contemplate, unfortunately, he had to. If the Gods were benevolent, he might just find the magic spell in these books that would make the Night King and his armies fade away in a whiff of smoke, he hoped.

“You must sometimes read poetry and tales of maids and knights,” She teased him one day. “else people would take the Prince of Dragonstone for a violent man.”

“I’m not a violent man your grace or do you not know that yet?” he teased her back but then he suddenly wore a serious look, “I’m only following what Maester Aemon once told me. Knowledge will be our weapon in this war Daenerys. I want to learn everything that is there to learn before we go into this battle.”

“There is much at stake.” He smiled for her. Hoping she would not see the turmoil underneath it all.

Daenerys nodded remembering another lost relative whom she could never meet and in the understanding of the magnanimity of impending war.

Some of her other habits were rather queer for most people to understand. She would disappear for hours leaving half the castle worried and frantically looking for her. She would escape with Drogon and fly east or just sit around and talk to the families of Dothraki who had followed her, or the people who had lived there before their arrival.

These westerosi lords would be scandalized if they knew, he chuckled inwardly. She was more comfortable with her people as compared to the high lords and ladies of Westeros. Just as he was with the freefolk. It was a matter of finding true acceptance.

Longclaw was never far off. Jon had known treachery and that made him fearful, _for her_. To his woes, he could not be around her all the time so he had gone to her queensguard one day, “Ser Barristan, recruit some of the best unsullied, disguise them as common foot soldiers and have them follow her whenever she leaves the castle. Protect her Ser.” His voice was commanding but his eyes had held a desperate plea, a prayer.

The old queensguard returned a warm, knowing smile. “I will see it done my Prince.”

 

 

 

She didn’t really sleep well at nights. Daenerys had made it a habit of sneaking into his bedchambers at odd hours, always mindful of not waking him though. She would sit by the fire and read, or write her own letters when an important message had to be sent. _She is wary of the Maesters._

She would be gone as soon as the sun was up. _She thinks he does not know._

It must be the hour of the wolf when he sensed her tiptoeing her way into his chambers. He was lying prone, with his face turned towards the passage she took every day. Without opening his eyes, he moved to one end of the bed, freeing the warm furs from under his self, lifting them with one hand. She paused in her steps and slowly set the parchments and quill on Jon’s work-desk. She then turned to him and quietly climbed into the bed, taking furs from his hand and tightly wrapping them around her.

Her back was turned to Jon when he heard her say, “you should not look.” So he smiled and closed his eyes. _You should not be in my bed, looking like that, and not allow me to gaze._

She was still asleep when Jon had to leave for his everyday duties. ‘Ser Davos or someone might just barge in looking for me’, he thought. So he locked his chamber doors carefully from the inside and took the secret passage. _Fuck me_ , he muttered under his breath, before opening the doors.

“The queen does not wish to be disturbed.” He informed the guards as he left through the front doors of her chambers. He would come back later to check on her.

She slept until noon that day.

 

***************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to allude to Jon's fears in this - he was the lord commander at Castle Black and got murdered for doing the right thing. Daenerys sits at the helm of power, is as safe as can be but he cannot just let go of his fears. 
> 
> Dany has hopefully reclaimed another childhood memory.
> 
> Also, everyone has their work cut out for them and they just don't sit and sip wine or mine the glass
> 
> Thank you CallMeDeWitt for suggesting an interesting change!


	9. Dragons' Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany grapple with realities

 

Jon was overseeing the transfer of the mined dragon-glass to the wares of the castle when he reached the courtyard and noticed a group of young boys gawking at a tower. He looked up and saw a petite, silver-haired girl sitting at the window-ledge of her chamber and watching the waves of seas rise and fall. She had clutched her white furs tightly about her. At that moment Daenerys looked so serene and enchanting that Jon too briefly paused in his tracks.

His spell broke when Ser Davos yelled at the boys, “bugger off you lot. Those crates are not going to load on their own.”

Jon blinked and turned around, “Ser Davos, I didn’t hear you coming.”

Ser Davos chuckled, “For how long do the Dragons dance before they nest lad?”

“Long enough Ser Davos. Long enough.” He said, dejected.

Ser Davos began walking towards Tyrion’s solar and Jon followed him.

“Have you told her?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“I never took you for a coward.”

 _But I am._ “What do you fear lad?” Davos asked.

“I fear this war will be the end of me. Why else did I come back when better men have not.” He felt sick. “The world may know and understand the queen but not the girl behind that mask. She has suffered enough Ser Davos. She will break on my account. I don’t wish to leave her like that."

"She would be better off with someone who has better chances of surviving this war.” Jon looked into the ether, willing Davos to understand. In time Daenerys might come to find love when the times were safer and lands more peaceful.

“No one knows the boy's heart either.” Davos contemplated.

“The boy no longer lives. He bled out in the snow. With only cold left running through his veins.” Jon said resentfully.

“No lad, from where I see, the girl has brought the boy back to life. Does she not deserve the joys of finding true love and living it every day? And what if you survive? Or have you not considered that? Would you be able to see her with another man?”

Jon ignored his hopefulness. _It may never come to pass._ “I do not have to tell her Ser. She knows. And if the Gods are cruel enough, I will see that too.” Jon responded with an indignant frown.

Jon wanted to be alone.

 

 

Daenerys had been sitting in the window and watching things unfurl around her. The castle was bursting with activity and it warmed her heart to see it. It was far removed from the grim and lonely place she had walked in.

“Ser Barristan?”

“Yes Your Grace.”

“What was is like? .. before?” her voice ebbed.

“The castle your grace?”

“No” she trailed. “Yes, I mean, what was it like when our family lived here?”

“It was .. vibrant your grace. Just as it is today.” The white knight smiled proudly looking at the queen he chose to serve.

“A place for dragons and seat of House Targaryen.” She whispered meaningfully when she noticed Jon in the courtyard walking with his trusted advisor Ser Davos. Her eyes twinkled and then faded in the next moment.

 _Our House will live on._ She had made up her mind.

 

 

“Ah, what a pleasure seeing you Ser Davos and, Your Grace” Tyrion nodded ceremonially as they reached his solar and Jon scoffed. “You both could use some wine, I can tell.”

“Lord Hand”, Davos offered him a stiff nod “I was wondering what would be agenda for today’s council meeting. Do I have to be there? I was planning on spending the day with an old friend.”

“Yes, the pirate, Salladhor Saan. You keep curious company Ser Davos.”

Davos just tilted his head to his side in acknowledgment and both he and Jon accepted the wine Tyrion offered from his cask. “You have cut the middle man Lord Hand. You ferment your own wine now?” Davos asked taking a whiff from his goblet.

“Gods forbid, no Ser. It’s the dry Arbour Gold. I am *sampling* it.”

“Quite the connoisseur my Lord!”

“Indeed. It is not easy being the Hand in these times. Not everyone can be appeased you see. And certain people are not as cooperative as I’d like them to be.” He said staring at his wine.

“You may join you friend Ser. The council has been called off. There is another matter to be settled before the next council.” Davos and Jon stood up to take their leave. “Not you, my Prince. I need to have a word with you.”

After Ser Davos left, Tyrion laid a pile of parchments on the table. “If I may, Jon, we need to decide on an urgent matter. I am afraid I have run out of excuses to give the high Lords as to why the queen is not yet betrothed and yet their own proposals are not acceptable.”

Jon gulped and his heart sank.

“It is not for me to decide who she must marry Tyrion. You must not seek my opinion on this.”

“You are right. I am going to ask her in the next council meeting to decide on the matter and bring closure. We cannot let it linger for too long. Thanks to the prejudices of the peoples, this reflects poorly on Her Grace.”

“However, you are the only family left to her and seem to know her well, I would like your opinion on the prospective grooms for Her Grace.” Tyrion continued.

_Don’t make me do it, Tyrion._

“How about Lord Hoster Blackwood? He should be honored to marry our queen.” Tyrion picked up the first parchment.

“Bookish, seven feet tall and, gangly” Jon frowned dismissively downing his first goblet of wine.

“Yes, quite gawky. In that case, Her Grace and he may not be a ‘gainful’ match  right Jon?” Jon sat uncomfortably stoic.

“We have already ruled out the Martells. Quentyn Martell, unfortunately, was roasted by Rhaegal. And the pact between Martells and Viserys Targaryen with him. Wonder what his namesake, Rhaegar, would have to say about that.” Tyrion let that sink in before he continued.

“The Hightowers do not have any male heirs.” Tyrion poured some more wine.

“The Tarly heir has taken a wildling girl for his wife.”

Tyrion threw a few other parchments aside and picked up the next one.

“Mayhaps, Her Grace would wish to legitimize Aurane Waters. His blood is of Valyrian descent and is rather handsome. My sister Cersei kept him around only because he looked like the Dragon Prince.”

Jon grimaced at the insinuation.

“And a turncloak and threat to Monterys Velaryon, the true heir. We do not want to offend the lords of crownlands Tyrion.” Jon’s heart went wild and he down his wine once and twice.

“Very well. You seem to know an awful lot about these men. Do not fret though, there are more.”

“The heir to Vale.”

“Is a sickly boy.” Said Jon and an amused Tyrion nodded in agreement. He had him where he wanted him to be. Not quite there though.

“Their next in line, Harrold Hardyng... already sired bastards and would never keep to her bed.”

Jon’s eyes darkened with anger.

Tyrion rummaged through the other parchments that lay there.

“Now I might suggest that The Lord of Winterfell might be a good match.” Jon was about to stop him but he went on “Unfortunately, he is quite young and the only male heir who can provide continuity to the Stark line. And well..”

"Lord Tyrion, if I were you, I’d watch my next words!" Jon roared. His hand reached for Longclaw, tightly clutching the pommel, and his knuckles went pale.

Having made his point, Tyrion threw his arms up in concession.

Tyrion continued apprehensively, "The earlier wars and especially the Red Wedding, thanks to my father, saw to it that most families were either left without male heirs or the heirs are too young. While I do not believe words of witches, we will have to not only chose someone from _this_ lot, we would also be obligated to forewarn them of such a possibility."

“Unless you could suggest another, I am going to offer my honest council to Her Grace in the next meeting.”

The stab wounds felt fresh and Jon felt the cold returning to his veins.

_When did I become such a coward?_

 “I need your council, Tyrion.” Jon said resolutely.

“It is yours. Now and always.” With that Tyrion brought forth a book detailing the events during the Dance. It was marked to a page, ‘The Pact of Ice and Fire’.

“This should temper any voices arising from the faith. Your union will the fulfillment of an ancient pact and I am sure the realm will be more than delighted at the prospect. People tend to turn to magic and lore in such dark times.” Tyrion eased into his chair, smiling in victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you CallMeDeWitt for doing a read through and beta. Mistakes are still mine !!
> 
> Will upload the next chapter as early as I can.


	10. See the light

“Jon, where have you been?”

“Been busy, Daenerys.” He rubbed his forehead. She quirked her brow.

“There’s something I need to ask of you.” He said when he had her unmitigated attention.

“Anything you want.”

“I do not want you to marry any of these high lords. You must ask Tyrion to altogether cease his efforts in that regard.” He hesitated, not knowing how she might react.

“Consider it done Jon.” She said without meeting his gaze.

At that Jon exhaled in relief. He felt he could breathe again.

He went closer to her and took her hands in his. He looked into her eyes when he spoke. “I have spent a good part of my life trying to blend in, to belong, and to find acceptance Daenerys. I have fought many wars. Both within my self and outside. That is all I know."

"I am not a man of many words Daenerys. Never been good at it. So the only thing I can say is, I love you. I always have. You are the only blessing I have ever sought for myself. And Dany, to my shame I realized that I'm a selfish man for I can never see you with another." he lowered his eyes briefly. "You are _mine_ as long as I live. You give me a reason to live.”

Tears welled up her eyes.

“We belong together Daenerys, don’t you see? Forgive me for I could not say it earlier due to my own fears.” He felt relief and shame at the same time.

Her eyes widened in panic and then she blinked. Her gaze was distant now and she removed her hands from his and withdrew from his proximity. “No, it cannot be.”

She took a deep breath and put on her calm demeanor, “I’m going to ask Lord Tyrion to draw up a draft of succession. Everyone understands that the crown prince holds the title of Prince of Dragonstone and I shall will the crown to you after I am gone.”

“The war will be upon us soon enough Jon. You must have an heir before we both ride in the midst of it.” She forced a smile in her tormented eyes.

Jon clutched his chest and felt the cold and deep pain. He nearly buckled and Daenerys rushed to his side screaming, “guards, guards, anyone..”

“No, don’t...” Jon held her by the elbow and willed her to see the truth in his eyes. She stood in silence next to him, holding him. Tears streaked their faces.

“Forgive me, Daenerys for I have been a coward. I should have fought for you the moment I heard of you. I should have been by your side when you came to these shores. I shall never forgive myself for letting you do this alone.” He wanted to pour his soul to her in that moment.

“Jon, you did not know me. I could have been as mad as my sire and burnt you alive. Everyone always expects the worst from me.” she added morbidly.

“Would that have been so bad, Dany? Have I not burnt for you every day since you accepted me without a shred of doubt? I have been an outsider all my life. It is you who took me in and gave me a home when you didn’t have to.”

“I did nothing you did not deserve. Everything that you think I gave you, was yours, to begin with. Listen to me Jon, and truly listen. There had been a Daenys who saved the Targaryens from the Doom and brought them to safe waters. I do not wish to be so selfish as to bring upon the doom of my House. You cannot sire sons and daughters with me, Jon.”

“Don’t, don’t say that.” His shoulders dipped in defeat and his head hung low. He willed nothing more than for her to not say aloud what she was thinking.

“Oh, but I have to, Jon.” she said with a trembling voice.

“The line of Targaryens will not end just because I choose to be selfish. What would my legacy even be then?”

“Your legacy Dany?” he chuckled mirthlessly. “You made a home with people whom the world called savages and embraced them as your own. When the world took away all you held dear, you walked into a burning inferno and you burned bright. You brought forth this miracle the world had not seen in a hundred years.” Jon said looking over her shoulder where her dragons flew.

“You created a better world for generations to come and once your people had been happy, you did not want to wage wars Daenerys. But you still fought when they brought the war to you. And you won! How many children would never know slavery because you, Daenerys Targaryen, fought for them?” He willed her to see the sincerity in his words and pride in his eyes.

“You returned to these shores looking for home and fate threw these terrible, fell beings at you. You could turn your back and leave, for this darkness is not of your making. Yet you stand here. This world has a chance at survival because of you.”

“So tell me, if this is not the kind of legacy only the Gods can boast of, then what is?”

“How does your womb define you? And if it does, then this cold and heartless world might as well freeze into oblivion.” Jon declared with cold in his eyes.

Daenerys stood still, blinking her tears away. “Do you not deserve the joys of fatherhood Jon? It will soothe my broken heart knowing that my blood lives through you. You _must_ wed another, Jon.”

“Do not say that, Daenerys. I beg you. Not when I am learning what it means to really _live_. You are all I will ever want for as long as I breathe.”

“That maegi was a scorned woman, Dany. She had said those vile things to break your resolve. She repaid your kindness in treachery. How can such a woman speak of the Gods’ will? The Gods I know can never be so cruel my love, not to you.” He held her clenched fist to his heart as he spoke.

“And if the Gods really will it, then so be it. I will love any child you choose to raise as your heir as I would love the one from my own loins.”

His voice was so heart-breaking at that moment, it mortified her.

“I will fight your wars and fight everything else that stands in our way. This is my promise to you Daenerys. They may call me an oath-breaker but you know me as no one does.”

“It is not worth it Jon. You don’t know it yet.” She looked down.

“If you are not worth fighting for then nothing else is, my sweet Daenerys.” With that, he brushed her hair away from her face, tangled his fingers between them and he pulled her against him with his other hand. He tipped her head to him and lowered his lips on hers sending a flood of warmth through them both. She tasted oh so sweet, like the morning dew, like strawberries, like wine..

Daenerys grabbed his gambeson with all the strength she had as if she was holding on to her life. Jon brought his hand to her beautifully flushed cheek, possessively molding her to his chest. His tongue begged entrance into her mouth and she parted her lips ever so softly. Their tongues danced together as their kiss kindled a fire within them. The grip she had on him was almost hurting but the pleasure of having her in his arms like that, numbed any pain he could feel. A moan escaped her lips as she said his name, ‘ _Jon’_ , almost as if it were a prayer.

At that moment his thoughts wandered to dark places and it took him all his self-control not to pick her up, have her legs wrapped around him, and show her how he truly felt. She was his love, she was also his secret desire, his sin. The thought didn’t burden him for he didn’t feel like a man in that moment and dragons and direwolves don’t know sin, _isn’t it?_

Beautiful violet eyes filled with love and longing met him, while her lips quirked upwards in a melancholic smile. She was mesmerizingly beautiful in that moment.  She was ethereal starlight from a far off galaxy, so near and yet so far. He kissed her again, ever so fervently. His kiss held a thousand promises.

Daenerys lowered her head to Jon’s chest and he held her tight, engulfing her in his furs.

“I love you, Daenerys. I love you more than I should.” he whispered in her ear, clutching her to his heart. “Do you love me?” When she looked up, her eyes were conflicted. She loved him though. That much was clear.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you CallMeDeWitt for betaing it, and not only suggesting that the good bits must last longer than 10 words, but also for providing me a beautiful framework to work with!


	11. To Go Forward, You Must Go Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse before they start getting better.

Things had not been the same between the two of them since their last encounter at the Dragons’ Lair. Daenerys had been distant. She was always kind and polite but resisted whenever Jon tried to steer the conversation towards their future. She smiled less often and mostly looked troubled. It broke Jon’s heart seeing her like that.

In time Jon decided it was better to not broach the subject unless she wanted to. He just wanted them to be as they were before he had admitted his feelings towards her. Not that she didn’t know, but to have it all out in open, it overwhelmed her. _She needs time_ he told himself.

He found her reading a tome in the library. She looked weak and weary. “We need to talk Daenerys.”

She shut the tome and put it down. She would have fled if she could.

“You do not have to say anything you do not wish to. But you would be unfair if you won’t allow me either.”

“Jon..”

“No, listen to me Dany,” he took a chair opposite her. “I feel lonely without you. I do not sleep well when you are not near me. I really slept well when I knew that I would wake up at some point in the night and see you there. Would you come to my chambers like you used to? For my sake?”

“Jon, you are to marry a highborn lady. You cannot be seen with me. It will cause unpleasant rumors.”

“It has not been an issue until now. And who said I am marrying anyone?” Jon lost his temper.

“I did.”

“Alright, I shall do as you command. Only after you marry a high Lord. And, _after_ the wars are won.” he said with resolve.

Daenerys lowered her eyes and stared at the floor.

“So what do we do until then? If I do not sleep for another night, I may die before I win your wars Daenerys. You can’t let that happen, can you?”

She smiled like her old self, like the girl from his dreams. But she said nothing.

They shared wine and talked about everything they had missed in the past few days. They always found comfort in each other’s company.

They gradually started going back to as they were. They would spend some time together every evening and exchange stories. She still avoided coming to his chambers.

 

**_Two weeks later_ **

 

“Your Grace, I would be away for half a moon. I am leaving instructions with the freefolk leader regarding our mining efforts. I would still need the crown’s approval for sending Lord Penrose in my stead to negotiate with the Iron Bank.” Jon petitioned at the end of the council meeting.

“I did not know you were leaving, Prince Jon.” Daenerys could have burnt him with her stare at that moment.

Jon looked away, _fuck me to seven hells_.

“Lord Tyrion, see it done.” She said and exited the council chambers.

Jon followed her to the Dragons’ Lair.

She had been watching the sun set in the horizon when Jon approached her. Her hair looked wild and angry or perhaps it was his imagination. Jon would soon find out.

“When do you leave?” Daenerys asked him without turning around to look at him.

“In two days. There are problems between the Stormlords and the Dothraki. We have to quell it before it gets out of hand.”

“You’re the Prince of Dragonstone! Your place is here.” She did not know what else to say.

He understood her all too well. Stepping forward and standing close enough to smell the jasmine in her hair, but far enough to keep his darkness bound inside, he whispered, “I would never leave you Daenerys. You know it.”

Daenerys left Jon standing alone on the cliff without uttering a word to him.

Jon tried to follow her but her sons blocked his path. Orbs of smoldering red, bronze, and molten gold staring at him in indignation. _You too are angry now? I promise I will make it up to her. Now please let me pass._ Jon wondered if they would just flick him down the cliff. They were unmoving and unrelenting. _Just like her. And no, they won’t._ So Jon just kept walking and the three took to the skies.

Jon went in search of her. No one had seen her walk down their usual path. She was not in her chambers or the Aegon’s Garden or the Great Hall or the rookery. She was nowhere to be found. In the panic, he alarmed half the castle. The dragons too did not return that night. In his heart, he knew she was somewhere safe.

Jon spoke at length with the commander of her queensguard. He told him to have all the hidden passages within the castle to be secured and manned. “We may still have a need for them as escape routes. Map them all Ser.” He was fastidious when it came to her safety, almost to the point of obsession. “Bar the passages that lead to Her Grace’s own chambers.” _All but one._

It was an hour of the wolf when he decided to retire to his rooms. _She is a dragon and she will be found when she wants to be found._

Daenerys was sitting by the fire when he walked back to his chambers. If he was not dead tired, he would have picked a huge fight with her, he told himself. In truth, he felt guilty.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

Jon’s lips curved in a smile.

“Nowhere. Just roaming the castle, Your Grace.”

“What is that?”

“This is your mother’s ring. For your _Princess_. Just in case.”

He took it with an amusing smile. Turned it in his fingers, felt the weight of it and then returned it back to her.

“Hold on to it. I shall return to you.” _Always._

She offered him a disbelieving look.

“And I don’t think you are going to find someone in a fortnight Dany. Wait for me?”

Daenerys nodded.

He went out, informed Ser Barristan that she was safe, spoke with the guards stationed outside and then returned and barred his doors.

He pulled his doublet and threw it in a chair. “It’s quite late. Sleep here tonight. No one will come looking for us in the morning.”

“Please?” he added.

“I brought my own furs.” She replied and stretched her legs under her furs, in his bed.

 

**Three weeks after Jon’s return from Crownlands**

 

“Daenerys,”

“Hmm?”

“What is this chest doing in my chambers?”

“Which one?”

“The colossal one that is occupying twice the space than mine.”

“Oh that, those are some of my everyday essentials.”

“Some?”

“Clothes. And nightclothes, and oils, some scents and a pair of sandals.”

“Why just one?” He smirked, pouring wine for both of them.

“I shall have them removed if it vexes you. My apologies, I should have asked first.” She said putting down the vial of oil she was rubbing between her palms. She didn’t mean it, _at all._

“No, it’s quite alright.” He grinned. _And he meant it._

“I will still sleep in my own chambers. This is for ‘unwarranted emergencies’, if you will.”

“I see. And what sort of emergency would warrant you wearing this?” he asked pulling out a green, rich silk garment interwoven with gold and silver thread, peeking through her half-open chest of ‘emergency treasures’.

“Also, if I may, where is the other half of it?” he held it up for her to see.

“Oh, this? It’s a Qartheen gown.”, she pulled it from his hands and began folding it haphazardly, like a roll.

“It belongs to Missandei. A gift from one of the Good Masters. I’m only holding it for her.”

“Sounds really precious to her. Should it not be with her belongings?”

“I plan to return it to her tomorrow.”

“Let’s find the other half of it. You don’t want to disappoint your dear friend.” He turned around and began rummaging through her clothes without really looking.

“Qartheen women wear gowns that leave one breast bare.” She blurted in a sharp tone, only seemingly unfazed.

Jon gulped. _She wore that!_

He went near her, bent down, his nose and his lips touching an errant wisp of her hair, and he rasped, “You met Missandei in Astapor, remember? Qarth was before.”

Daenerys swallowed. Regaining composure she said, “You remember too much.”

“Guilty as charged, Your Grace.” Jon smirked and stepped back.

“Even if it was mine, you presume to tell me what I could or could not wear?”

“I dare not.”

“You don’t think I can, don’t you?” she was pushing him too far now.

_She would, surely, if I dared._

Jon deadpanned, “You could wear it tomorrow and roam the castle for all you want Dany. I may not be petty but I _am_ possessive.”

“You will leave a trail of bloodshed in your wake. And men would hate me for hiding away such exquisiteness from them.” His eyes momentarily traveled down to her breasts.

“You don’t know….” She said it.

“I don’t know _what_ , Daenerys?”

She could have fallen for the innocence in his eyes but she did not. And, she did not answer.

“I can imagine. It’s not a crime.” Jon peered into her eyes.

She met his lustful gaze with pretend indignation and then suddenly lowered her eyes and turned away. “You should not look!”

“What else can I do if you won’t have me?” He said disarmingly.

“I’m your queen.” She said narrowing her eyes, looking over her shoulder.

“You will be my Princess.” He said softly.

“I’m NOT your Princess!” She said, unconvincingly.

She left the chambers and Jon quickly threw the Gods-forsaken, sin of a garment with his personal belongings and ran after her.

 


	12. Hurt

 

Daenerys had returned to her own chambers earlier than usual that morning. She told Jon that she was expected to break fast with visiting high Lords of the kingdom. She had wanted him to join as well.

Jon excused himself and sent his apologies for his absence. They were having some trouble receiving grain and gold shipments from Essos.

The leftover fleet of Euron Greyjoy was in cohorts with the pirates who could no longer take slaves from the Summer Sea and sell them to the erstwhile Ghiskari slavers. The pirates had become an irritant they could no longer ignore and were constantly attacking the ships that carried resources to Westeros.

The Crown needed the aid of Volantene galleys to escort their merchant ships safely home.

After a discussion with the unsullied commander, the Master of Coins and the commanders of the Targaryen fleet, Jon was walking back to his chambers when he noticed Aurane Waters escorting Daenerys to the Windwyrm. She had taken his arm and was smiling at whatever small-talk the Bastard of Driftmark was making. _Probably whispering sweet nothings in her ears._

Aurane Waters had once dared send a marriage proposal to Daenerys suggesting that he was more Valyrian than a Northerner presumed to have been born in Dorne. That his silver-gold hair meant he had more Valyrian blood than some Northerner with raven curls. In all fairness, Dany was not aware of entire contents of the letter that her Hand had received on Aurane’s behalf.

It was believed that Aurane was an attractive looking man. Although Jon never really understood how in Seven Hells could anyone find a man like _that,_ attractive! He was a man of wavering loyalties, self-serving, too superficial, and in vain of his looks and his manicured hands.

When Daenerys returned to her chambers that evening, Jon had spent a long time brooding and mulling over ways to kill the man. And Tyrion was always a bad company if one wanted to remain sober and have a meaningful conversation. So it was safe to presume that Jon had been in his cups and that was even before the image of Daenerys with Aurane flashed in his mind.

“Why is he here?” Jon asked the moment she stepped inside her chambers.

His sword-belt was unbuckled and lay next to him on the table. There was wine, lots of wine, and no books or parchments or quills. Daenerys looked at the scene before her curiously. _It’s unlike him._ “Are you planning on killing me Jon?” 

“Not you.” Jon was sullen and his tone offered no comfort.

“That is a relief. Who then, if I may ask?”

“That bastard!”

Daenerys raised her brow. Most definitely in contempt.

“Don’t look at me like that. He’s a bastard not because of his birth.”

“May I ask what is it that is making you lose your wits, Jon?”

“What were you doing with him wandering around the castle? I thought you had to meet some Lords.”

Daenerys couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“I had to and I did meet them. He is visiting from the Crownlands.”

Her voice was soothing when she said, ”He is of Valyrian blood Jon and is most curious to know of our history. He wanted me to show him the castle.”

“Not everyone with light hair is your blood Dany!” he screamed senselessly.

“No, not everyone. Some have dark hair and dark eyes.” She gave him a tantalising smile.

“He is leaving tomorrow. I will not have him prancing about my castle any longer!” Jon said in fury.

“Is it your castle now Jon? I thought it was ours.” She said removing a dragon pin from her hair.

Jon’s voice softened at it. “Yes, it is ours. Yours and mine.” _And our children’s after us._

“He wishes to be legitimized. What do you think about it Jon?” she asked him with her challenging doe-eyes.

Jon left his chair and sprang towards her. There was a certain darkness in his eyes that Daenerys had never seen before. A storm waged inside him that could devour them both. He took both her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head, on the wall behind her. She twisted her head back and felt his other hand on her breasts. She tried to tear herself free but she lulled when she felt his lips on hers. He nibbled on her lower lip greedily and she bit and drew blood from his. They moaned and growled into each other’s mouth until they could no longer breathe.

“I’ll call the guards.” She gasped between her moans.

“Let them come.” Jon replied in a low, grating voice.

She did not call her guards.

His hand moved possessively over her clothed body, to her throat, her breasts, her flat stomach, her curved sides, to her mound and then, lower, to her core which was soaking wet with desire. _Sin_ he gasped. It was a gasp of lust. He bent down and sucked on her neck and then trailed his lips above the fabric of her gown to her breasts. Even through the layers of clothing, Dany could still feel her nipples pucker and stiffen in want. She wanted his lips on her naked flesh.

Jon pushed his leg between her thighs pressing his hardness against her. He parted his lips and sucked her neck purposefully till it left an angry red mark. His hand hastened towards her cleavage and reached for her gown. At the sound of rip of the fabric, Jon stilled.

He let go of her wrists, pressed his forehead against hers and took a troubled breath.

Dany’s lips were beautifully puffed and his blood gave them a crimson hue. She looked awed and her violet eyes we brimming with desire, but Jon did not trust his judgement in that moment. He locked her in his arms tenderly and apologised. “Forgive me love.” He then yanked his own cloak and wrapped it around her.

There was submission as well as conquest in his act.

“Legitimise him all you want. But he leaves tomorrow.” With that, he picked up his sword from the table and left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this for the awesome iia_ao3ac who put the idea in my head!
> 
> Also to everyone who imparts their invaluable time to a small-time writer such as I and writes lovely comments.
> 
> I don't know if this is any good. But hey, I tried! :)


	13. Blood Of The Dragon

**Blood of the Dragon**

Daenerys sat at the bureau looking at her reflection in the mirror placed before her. She ran her fingers on her flushed cheek and her puffed lips. She touched his blood that had dried at the corner of her lip and caressed it with her fingers.

She removed her woolen gown and her shift and looked at the marks Jon had left behind. They went deeper than skin.

Daenerys stared at her image in the mirror. Something she had not done in a very long time

When she looked at her wrists, she could still feel him holding her his prisoner. _Have shackles ever felt so good?_ She wondered. Oh, how she wanted to be bound by him, to him.

Even through the many layers of fabric, he had imprinted her. She stripped off her small-clothes. His fingers left their prints in shape of flower petals at the side of her left breast. Her pink teat was now red and still erect in want.

In a fit of wanton desire, she ran her fingers down to her core. She needed his strong, battle-hardened, masculine hands there, not her dainty ones. It was maddening that she would want him after what he had done.

 _What has he done?_ She wondered.

In more ways than one, Jon had marked her his own and he did not even know it.

She did not have supper that evening and when she could not sleep, she went to his chambers to find him.

He wasn’t there.

 

*-*-*

 

The following morning, she did not wear her usual Westerosi, southern styled gown with long flowy sleeves. She opted for a more conservative straight sleeved northern styled garment with a plunging neck but that did not expose her midriff.

When she stepped out, Jon was waiting outside her chambers.

“May I speak with you?” He sought.

She let him in.

He stood silent for a brief moment and looked at her dolefully. But he did not apologize. And she was grateful for it.

He brushed her hair away from her neck and saw the crimson mark that looked as if it was spreading its roots over her porcelain skin. His breath hitched. It reminded him of Ghost, his albino direwolf. _Is she my wolfmaid now?_ His heart wondered while his fingers kissed the scar.

“Your hair won’t stay like this all day.”

“You should have thought of it earlier.”

“Aye. I should have.” He stared at the ground and then met her eyes.

She side-stepped him and proceeded to leave the chambers when he gently held her wrist and stopped her.

“Dany, wait!”

He rummaged through her clothes and found her a dark red cape that matched her black gown.

“Dany?”

She turned around and he fastened it around her neck. His fingers momentarily lingered over the scar on her neck and Daenerys shivered at his touch.

 

*-*-*

  
 

Jon and Daenerys arrived together at the chamber of the painted table.

Daenerys sat at the head of the table and Jon sat to her right. Lord Penrose sat next, followed by Ser Davos. To her left, sat Tyrion and next sat Aurane Waters and Maester Pylos.

Before the meeting could even begin, Aurane Waters spoke out of turn. “Good morning Your Grace! You look like a vision, _my queen_.” Jon flexed his sword hand but tucked it under his chin as he rested his elbow on the chair arm. His fingers dug hard in his palms. “You have brought life to the dreary northern attire.” Aurane smirked.

North was Jon’s mother and Daenerys was not Aurane’s queen, she was the love of Jon’s life.

Before Dany could say anything, Jon spoke through his gritted teeth without looking at Aurane, “Northern beauty is harsh, my lord. Not many can appreciate it or, _survive it_.” He was not certain what offended him more. That the Bastard of Driftmark had called north dreary or that he was so audaciously drooling over Jon’s beloved.

Daenerys decided not to interrupt for she found Jon’s behavior rather uncanny.

Tyrion thankfully broke the ice and asked them to come to the urgent matter at hand. The issue of pirates terrorizing the merchant ships and holding the Westeros bound resources hostage.

Ser Davos provided details of the pirate companies, Lord Penrose outlined the details of the blockade and war effort on the treasury. Maester Pylos shared all the news they had lately received.

During the course of the council meeting, Jon caught Aurane Waters staring at Daenerys and it made Jon’s blood simmer in rage.

“Prince Jon, what say you?” Daenerys asked him at last.

“Your Grace, we must continue to treat with the Volantene for escort ships. They have a formidable fleet of their own.”

Aurane Waters spoke soon after Jon’s clipped response. “I shall lead your royal fleet and bring these scums to justice, the blood of my blood.”

Jon snapped at the mention of familial relations Aurane was trying to establish with Daenerys just because he could boast of Valyrian coloring.

“And why should we trust you, Lord _Waters_?” He laid stress on his last word. “The last time you were given command of a fleet, you betrayed the queen you were then serving and fled along with the ships.”

At this, Aurane fumed. “I am her grace’s kin! You cannot speak to me..”

Jon reamed in his direction, “I can and I shall speak to you as I wish you b..”

“Prince Jon!” She stopped him before he could say something he would come to regret later.

Daenerys inquisitively looked between the two of them and then at Tyrion. He was less amused than her. _Later, I shall ask him_ she thought.

Without looking at her Jon withdrew. “If you would excuse me, your grace, I have let the Bravosi wait for too long. I should be with them.”

Before she could say something, Jon fisted his hands and left the council chambers.

Daenerys decided to let everyone go and reconvene in two hours.

She then went to find Tyrion in his chambers. Tyrion graciously welcomed her and made polite conversation regarding her well-being and she asked him the same. After an awkward silence, without Dany’s prodding, Tyrion presented her with a letter. “Perhaps this is what you are looking for.”

She took it from him and read it. The proposal of marriage Aurane Waters had sent. Claiming himself the true blood of Valyria, capable of forwarding the Targaryen line in all its ‘glorious beauty’.

Her eyes turned red in indignation. “Why did I not know of this my Lord Hand?” She furiously asked.

“Jon did not want to, your grace. You had turned down this offer anyway. He did not see a point in unnecessarily distressing you.” Tyrion replied.

“Summon everyone. Now!” With that, she turned away and left.

 

*-*-*

 

Daenerys kept them waiting. When she returned, she was no longer wearing the cape that concealed her neck. And her hair was tied back in braids.

Aurane stared at her curiously.

Jon did not notice till she cleared her throat and presided. He furrowed his brows, but she consciously ignored him.

“Prince Jon, what have we decided about the threat to the east?” She asked him again.

“Your Grace, we..” Jon was interrupted.

Aurane rose from his chair and smirked. “If I may, my lord, only the blood of Valyria has the valor to fight the enemy in its own backyard. Let me prove it to you, your grace.” He said smugly, moving his eyes from Jon to Daenerys.

“Lord Waters!” Daenerys pushed herself from her chair and snarled, “You would do well to remember who you are addressing. He is the son of Winterfell, the blood of Kings of Winter. He was the Lord Commander of the ancient order of the Night’s Watch and his fame was known across the narrow seas while you were coddling Cersei Lannister.”

She took a sharp breath and her nostrils flared. “You will NOT speak over the words of Master of the Crown’s armies, Master of the Targaryen fleet, and, Son and Blood of the Dragon. The man who was born a king and could have donned the crown, twice over, if he ever chose to.” Her violet eyes burnt cinders.

“You will address the Prince of Dragonstone as such. Consider this your last warning, my lord.”

Jon wanted to interrupt her, several times. But it was not humanly possible to do so at that moment. The dragon blood is untameable.

“Prince Jon, please continue.” Her voice did not betray her emotions, for she did not want to hide her affection for him.

Jon nodded inwardly and calmed his nerves. “Your Grace, we do not want to tangle ourselves in a battle that is not needed. Let the Volantene deal with them. We cannot engage our resources that far east.”

He held out a parchment to her and gritted his teeth momentarily when her sleeve hiked up and he noticed the marks on her wrist.

“We had sent envoys to Volantis and the free cities. As we speak, they are assembling a fighting force to route the threat. As a show of support, we are sending a war galley with the Targaryen banners but not committing any soldiers to the effort.” He finished.

Daenerys nodded.

“Lord Waters, I have reconsidered your proposal. I offer a compromise.” Jon spoke politely.

Aurane lifted his shoulders that had been slumped too low.

“If you so wish to fight for the Crown, you shall have our support to do so. You may join the Essosi faction fighting under the dragons’ banners. You may also lead a contingent of any men who voluntarily agree to follow you. The Crown shall name you their captain.”

“Your grace?” Aurane shifted uneasily.

“I could not agree more.” She smiled.

 

*-*-*

 

Daenerys came to Jon’s chambers at the hour of the nightingale. She was surprised to see him awake. Jon was writing instructions for the envoys traveling to the free cities.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked her without looking at her.

“No.” She sounded exhausted.

“No more secrets.” She dropped a parchment on his desk.

 _‘Tyrion’_. Jon rubbed his forehead. “No more secrets.” He agreed.

Jon put down his quill. “Your Valyrian kin has fled.”

“He is no kin of mine.” She said sternly. “Where to this time?” She still wondered amusingly.

“Varys says Pentos. We’ll keep an eye on him.” Jon tried to study her face.

“I lost another potential suitor it would seem.” She laughed.

“Don’t say that. He never deserved you.” Jon did not enjoy her jape.

She poured wine for the two of them.

“You should be the King.” She said thoughtfully.

“Nah. Prince of Dragonstone has a better ring to it. Also, I don’t want to leave our home. Ever.”

Dany extended a goblet to him. He accepted it and carefully lowered it on the table, avoiding the parchments.

He turned his chair and gently took her wrists and kissed them. “I should be sorry for this.”

“But you’re not?” She half-asked.

“Is that bad?” He asked, not wanting to hear 'yes'.

“No, I like it that you’re not.” She smiled and pulled her hands away.

They spoke briefly, and then she let him go back to work.

“Sleep for as long as you like, Jon. I shall have your breakfast sent up later than usual.’” She pressed a kiss on his puckered forehead and left.

 


	14. Mother of Dragons

 

About two days ago, Dragonstone had received a raven from House Mallister announcing the birth of their heir.

               --------------------------------

“Inform Her Grace, I am here to see her.” Jon told the guards outside her chambers.

“Jon! Forgive me, I could not come outside to receive you. I was not appropriately dressed.” She smiled meekly as he reached her bed chambers. She was sitting in her bed with an array of books and parchments lying all around her.

Her face looked pale and her hair were tied in a single loose braid. She was wearing a dark violet, soft wool gown with pearl embroidery and had draped pale white furs around her slim figure.

“What happened, Daenerys? I have not seen you since last night. You look unwell. Is everything alright? Shall I send for the Maester?” he looked anxious.

“I am fine, its nothing.” She trailed. “My moon blood came this morning and I wanted to take some rest. My apologies, I should have informed you. Did you need anything? Did I miss an important council meeting?” she worried.

“Oh. You didn’t miss anything, Dany. I was only worried for you. I hoped to see you several times during the day but I assumed we just didn’t cross paths.”

“And, I had waited for you to come to bed today morning. Even had extra furs brought in, in case mine were not warm enough.” He said nervously and she bit her cheek.

“I missed seeing you too, Jon. I do not know what would I do when I have to live at King’s Landing and you live here.”

“Mayhaps you don’t need to rebuild the keep. Leave it be, build a Godswood or just a grove for the birds to nest. Spend the gold elsewhere on your people and we can live here. This is our home after-all.” Jon said hopefully.

She thought for a moment what he said and what he meant. She ignored it. “I think you must be free to raise your family without the interruptions of ruling and politics.”

_Do not fight me, Daenerys. For once, listen to your heart._

“Mayhaps you are right.” He could tell in that moment that her face twitched ever so slightly. “You would want some seclusion with your husband too.”

_Two can play this game love._

“I told you I won’t marry anyone.” She grew irritated.

“I am not marrying anyone either.  I cannot. Why can’t you see that? Do you think I can come to love another?” He sat at the foot of her bed, resting his feet on the floor.

“The future of our House rests on you, Jon. It cannot be my burden alone. In time you will find it in your heart to love the mother of your children.” Her voice broke at the thought of his children and a wife.

“It is not our burden! We had no part in what happened! We are mere pawns of fate, Daenerys. I carry more than enough burdens for a lifetime and so do you.” He said with a resolve, pressing his hand on her stretched leg.

“And no, if you won’t have me, I won’t take a wife. I cannot do this to any woman. Before you ask, I have considered what you have been suggesting all this while. I considered it not for any houses or legacies but for you, Daenerys.”

Jon continued, “When I imagine myself with a woman,” he found Daenerys wince at his words, “no matter how much I try, her hair always turns pale silver-gold and her eyes always turn violet. I don’t see any other colors, Dany. Her eyes are stars I could gaze at all my life. When I roll her under my body, she is slender and soft as snow. She is fierce when she rides me. She does not wear crowns but one look at her and the world bows to her. She is fire. She is the fire that does not burn but keeps me alive. Without her, I’ll not live.” Sadness engulfed him then as he envisioned a life without her.

She swallowed her own joys, her own desires, her own dreams and said, “I won’t marry you.” She held her head high as if that would make him believe her.

Jon decided to play this game with her rules.

He pulled his hand away from her and reclined on the large frame of the footboard, stretching his legs next to hers.

“Oh, then we have reached an impasse. My bride is unwilling.” He said shaking his head with playful hopelessness. “I could always join the queensguard you know.”

“I won’t have you in my service.” Her eyes went back to the book she had in her lap.

“Then how shall I see you each day of my living life? You cannot be so heartless now, can you?”

“I can be.” She offered without looking up.

“Then I’ll retire to the Wall or see if the North will still have me. If not, I’ll go to Essos.

“You seem to have a plan, Jon. If you ever go to Essos, I suggest you go to Lys. Their women are most beautiful.” She said, turning a page of the book she was reading.

“Will they compare to you?”

“You might be surprised.”

“I think not. I have heard the bards fall short when they sing of the silver haired Queen’s beauty and I have known her like no one else has.”

“Let it be, Jon. Let it be.” She said once for him and one more time for herself.

“Would you like to go outside for a walk with me? I’ll have the Aegon’s Garden and the path to it cleared for you. We can walk or sit by the roses if you like.”

“Another day.”

“Whatever you wish. Now if you don’t mind, I have always wanted to read this book.” He said picking a book from her desk. It told the tale of Naerys Targaryen and Aemon the Dragonknight. Jon could not help himself from wondering how similar in looks she may have been to _his_ Daenerys.

               --------------------------------

“Jon?”

“Yes, Dany?"

“Did you ever imagine having children?”

This made him wary. It was concerning because she would go into a dark place if he could not alleviate her fears and doubts.

“No. Never had the time or freedom. At some point I was too young to imagine having a wife and a child. Not much later, I bound myself to the Night’s Watch and the vows would allow no man to be a husband or a sire.”

She hummed in response and he waited for her to share with him whatever was troubling her.

“Do you think we could adopt Patrek Mallister’s son if they would allow us?”

_You are the mother of dragons. Have you considered, it may be your fate to birth a new generation of dragons?_

He dare not say that aloud right now for he might push her into a spiral of regret and remorse that she must leave behind forever if they were to move forward.

“We could, Dany. They would be honored really. But why the Mallisters’ son? We could adopt an unnamed orphan and give them a home. We can raise them true and teach them honor. It does not even have to be a son. You could name our daughter your heir.”

“You are right I suppose.” It was more a question. She went back to reading.

Jon was patiently looking at her. She was not done yet, he knew.

“Did you have a lover before you came here? You were named Robb’s heir. I am sure many a maid would have been eager to share your bed. And, you’re rather comely.” She smiled through her eyes.

“People say so.” She added as an afterthought.

“You don’t think so?” he smirked.

A wave of crimson flushed across her cheeks. She swallowed and looked at her hands as she spoke. “Yes, I think so.”

Jon tilted his head and grinned, “I shall name you a liar if you cannot look at me when you speak.”

She raised her eyes and met his dark gaze, “You are very handsome, Jon. If I could, I would forever be lost in your dark eyes. I would melt in your arms to a place where no one would ever find me.” Her voice became feeble with affection as well as pang.

Jon swallowed and something stirred beneath his skin. _Desire as primitive as mankind._ She could feel it too.

She cleared her throat, “Tyrion would be here in some time. I need to finish this. You are a distraction, my Prince.”

“Distraction is nothing compared to what you do to me, Princess. I am rather kind.”

“I am not your Princess.”

Jon rolled his eyes as if she just made a jest.

Daenerys disregarded it. “And I have done nothing to you!”

“Wouldn’t you like to know now?”

“Yes! No! I mean, I have …” Her resolve waivered. “I am hungry. I shall send for food. Do you need something to eat? Wine perhaps?”

“Stay, I’ll send for the servants. I haven’t eaten my supper either.” He smiled and in silent acquiescence, he rose to his feet and went outside to give instructions.

“You cannot walk on broken glass around me all your life Jon.” She said when he returned.

“I know. And I won’t.” he promised.

“I have grieved the loss of a child but I also carried him in my womb. I suckled my living sons at my breasts. To the least I can say I have known a semblance of motherhood. You cannot turn your back on what you have never known.” With that sobs racked her body.

Jon rushed and pulled her tightly to his chest. “I’m sorry, Daenerys. I’m sorry that you had to see that. That all of it happened to you while I had still lived.” He kept kissing the top of her head as he muttered his fervent apologies. Her hands reached up against his chest, holding him close by the fabric of his tunic, digging a hole in his heart and drowning it in flood of her tears. He held her tight until their erratic hearts began beating in rhythm.

“Jon?” she broke his reverie.

“Hmm?”

“What if we could .. there are other ways .. our babe can be born of surrogacy. You could even choose your partner. I should be able to accept it I suppose.”

“Would you take another man to bed if I could not give you babes, Daenerys?” he asked her still holding her close.

“What? No! Never! Do you think so low of me?” There was hurt in her eyes when she looked at him.

“Then do not think so low of me either my love.” He planted a chaste and reassuring kiss on her forehead. And she slumped further in his arms.

They sat like that forever.

               --------------------------------

Someone called out from her solar, ‘Your Grace, supper is here.’

“Set it down and leave. We will help ourselves.” Jon said.

He offered her water and helped her get up the bed. Her legs faltered so he helped her to the privy and waited outside.

He then went out and brought food and wine to bed and coaxed her into eating.

“Have there been.. umm.. whores?”

Jon almost choked on his wine. “What?”

“Did you frequent brothels?”

 _You wish to to know if I've sired a bastard whom you could name your heir._ Jon concluded with a pained heart.

“Frequent? No, Your Grace! What woman would have me? As you can see I do not have much luck when it comes to courting.”

“You don’t have to woo them. You could pay them in gold and silver and have your way.” she said licking the grease off her fingers.

Jon almost coughed out his food at that.

“I have never been with a whore.” He didn’t like this discussion he found. 

“If we were to speculate raising a child together, what would you name them?” she asked, trying to look nonchalant.

“Well, you go first.”

“Rhaella. For my queen mother.” Her smile at the mere thought was bewitching.

“Robb.” He replied thoughtlessly.

She narrowed her eyes in slits. “You _did_ think of a babe.”

“No, not really.” He shook his head in disagreement.

“It was a dream Stannis has had woven for me. And when it came to the part where I could imagine something more from life, I had been thinking of my family. My father, brothers and sisters. And the thought just came to me unbridled.”

“I understand” she said placing her hand over his and giving it a gentle clutch.

“Your father named his son Robb? For the usurper?” She observed.

“No. For a childhood friend.” Jon assured her.

“We can’t call our son Robb now, can we?”

“Of course not.” He smiled sweetly not wanting to interrupt her thoughts.

“We could name him Aemon for the Dragonknight and for our uncle Maester Aemon.” Jon beamed in delight at the mere thought of having a family with her.

“Or we could name him Daeron.” _Dany hoped._

“For the first born of Queen Naerys.” They spoke in unison.

“Would you like to name him for Rhaegar?” She spoke softly.

“We could.” He offered her his comforting smile. “Would you like to step outside for a bit, Dany? We can find Tyrion on our way.” He said everything in a single breath not to darken her pleasant musings.

She nodded affirmatively.

“Stay, I’ll fetch your cloak.” With that he got up to find her furs.

               --------------------------------

She strolled in the direction of Aegon’s Gardens resting her head on his arm.

“Why did you want to see Tyrion?” she wondered.

“No reason. I can see him tomorrow.” It was nearly impossible for him to not laugh in that moment.

“I think we need to talk, Dany.” Jon sighed.

“Yes, we do. Tomorrow?”

“Aye. Tomorrow is good.”

               --------------------------------

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This had to be written. For Jon & Dany to move forward.


	15. Three Questions

They were sitting and watching the living embodiments of their House frolic before their eyes. The dragons swooped towards the seas and immediately took to air for the umpteenth time. “Do they ever tire?” Jon chuckled, and Dany smiled proudly and shook her head from side to side. “No, they don’t. Or they’re just showing off.”

A cold wind blew from the North and sent shivers down their bones. Jon pulled her closer to his body and sheltered her windswept hair with the hood of her cloak. He paused briefly when his fingers brushed her cold skin. He looked at her lips and then met her eyes. She did the same.

She tensed against him and her cheeks flushed. “You cold?' he asked. “Umm.. no. I mean, yes, it’s the winds.”

Jon bent down slightly, and his lips were over hers. It was delicate, but it sent a thrill down their spines all the same. “Do you love me, Dany?” He whispered in her mouth and waited for a response, not letting go of his hold on her.

“You know it.” She said.

“Do I?” he asked.

She blinked away. Her neck bobbed. She wanted to throw herself in his arms and scream and confess her love.

“You never said it to me, Dany.” He insisted.

“Haven’t I, Jon?” She could not help it any more.

“I would have remembered if you had. I always listen to you, don’t I?”

She pulled away and he let her go. She straightened the fabric of her gown and tightly clutched her cloak.

She turned away to leave. Then she paused in her tracks. “I love you, Jon. I love you more than I should.”

Jon kept his eyes on the sea as the sun lowered itself into the horizon. She kept hers on the castle that was bathing in the dusk light.

“Coward” he muttered.

“You have the right of it.” She replied.

Jon could bet his life that she smiled before she left.

     - - - - - - -

He found her sitting by the fire in his chambers. Her one leg was drawn up to her chest and the other was resting close to the fire.

He removed his sword-belt and his cloak.

“You left me alone.”

“No, I did not. You let me walk back alone.” She smiled making circles on the floor with her fingers.

“Will I ever win?” He lowered himself close to her.

“Only if I let you.” She leisurely rests her face on her knee, placing her palms under her cheek and looked at him.

“Will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Will you be my wife and make me the happiest man in all realms?” He willed her to see the love in his eyes.

She let out an incredulous gasp.

“I love you, Daenerys. I will always love you like no other can, my love. I love you when you smile , and I love you even more when you frown like a spoilt child. ‘coz those frowns are only for me.” He said drawing her close.

“You’re the part of my existence that I didn’t know I was missing. You’re my mornings, Dany and my nights too. And everything in between.” She sucked in her breath and her eyes gleamed.

“I want to feel your naked skin pressing against mine and your hair on my bare chest. I want it all. I _need_ you, my love. When I open my eyes in morning, I want to see you in my arms, breathing on me.” He moved his fingers on the soft skin of nape of her neck.

“I want the world to know you’re mine and I’m yours. I’m done letting you slip away from me.” He whispered kissing column of her neck and she moaned and arched into his arms. “I refuse to live in this constant fear of losing you to some prejudiced notion of bloodlines or in fear of wars and battles, my love. We have not come this far only to lose each other.” He kissed under her ear and pulled her in his embrace.

“Will you do me the honor of marrying me, Daenerys Targaryen?”

“Yes, Jon. Yes, I want to marry you. I will marry you.” She admitted in a trembling voice, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her eyes drifted as he kissed away her tears. Her dark lashes formed a curtain over her violet eyes, eyes that were brimming with hopes and dreams as they looked into his. Her deliciously full, pink lips felt as fluid as a whisper against his when he met them.

        - -  - - - - -

“Dany, I want you to stay here tonight.” Jon willed when she motioned to leave his chambers that night.

“But I cannot, my..” she looked at the furs with uncertainty and twiddled her thumb.

“What of it? Stay. Just sleep next to me.” Jon said, realizing what she meant.

        - -  - - - - -

Her back was pressed against his front as they tried to sleep that night. “Dany,” he whispered in her ear “I don’t think I can wait.”

“I can tell.” She laughed into her pillow.

“But I want to wait.” His face reddened.

She moved away from his touch.

He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her back to him. Resting his head in the dip of her shoulder, he said, “I can try.”

      - - - - - - - -

**_Next day_ **

They decided to get married in a small ceremony instead of usual royal grandeur, in just a few days’ time. No lavish feasts would be held. The wards of high lords and anyone of importance already present at Dragonstone would attend a small feast. Maester Pylos would send ravens to all houses of Westeros declaring their union. Only one was written in their own hand and that one was sent to Winterfell. To Jon’s brothers and sisters.

     - - - - - - - -

**_Night before the wedding_ **

It was the night before Daenerys would wed Jon and they would forever become man and wife.

She had been away from his chambers for what seemed like an eternity to him. In his anxiety, Jon could not find sleep. He shared ale with his northern men, Dany’s blood riders and the unsullied commanders. Everyone seemed to offer some _advice_ or the other to him. Except for the unsullied. Apart from the obvious reason of never having known pleasures of the flesh, they were too disciplined to indulge in drunken fantasies. Jon smiled politely at everyone’s japes.

He didn’t need anyone else giving him ideas.

The men had been deep in their cups when they decided to go find their beds or someone to warm their beds. Sleep still evaded him. He wandered about the castle aimlessly.

In a distance he spotted a hooded figure leaving the castle, followed by soldiers he recognized as the unsullied. Jon followed her out of concern. The streets would be deserted except for drunken men roaming the streets or brawling in inebriated state. She walked past the inns, past the drunken men in the streets and began walking towards the stone pier. She halted in her steps when she came across a woman holding her infant child in the crook of her arm. Daenerys turned around and accepted something from one of the soldiers following her. She went close to the woman, spoke a few words smilingly. She offered her some coins and draped her and the child in a pelt of white lion.

It had been a treasure she once cherished, Jon knew.

Jon showed himself when she turned around to walk back to the castle. She was astonished at first, then she met him with bright, smiling eyes. They both fell in step together and walked hand in hand.

“Why did you give away your hrakkar, Dany?”

“The woman and her babe were cold.” _I shall never be cold again._

 

 


	16. Gods and Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany unite in the eyes of Gods and men.

_"Daenerys, would you mind if I donned you in my own arms?” Jon had hesitantly asked her when she had agreed to marry him._

_“Why would I mind?” Daenerys had wondered. “I’d love that Jon.”_

_“I meant, the sigil on my coat of arms.” He had tried to explain._

_“I know. And it would be an honor.” She had smiled vibrantly._

The castle of Dragonstone did not house a Godswood. It did not house the new Gods either. Selyse’s queen’s men had sacked the sept and Melisandre had burnt the statues of the Seven outside of the castle's gates. Dragons and Targaryens bowed to no Gods indeed.

Daenerys did not follow any Gods but just like the Valyrians of the old, she respected them all.  She would pay her reverence to any Gods that brought her to him.

Jon on the other hand believed in the old Gods. Or perhaps he found comfort in the idea of a higher power that would help him win the dreaded war that was coming to them. He was not certain though. Before her, he had never been sure of anything in life.

There were no weirwood trees on the island. Tormund and the other northerners had carved a face on an ash tree when they had arrived. It had a solemn mouth, a twig for nose and two deeply carved eyes.

Jon wished to wed before the northerners’ own sacred tree so that the Gods may look upon them as they spoke the words.

“Dragon Prince! I hear you are going to marry the dragon queen!” Tormund yelled.

Jon smiled. “Aye. I am.”

“Why have you not stolen her yet?” Tormund innocently wondered as if it was the most obvious thing men do. ‘ _She is pretty enough. A bit too small for his liking, still a handsome woman to look at. And, she had dragons! Was it because she had dragons?’_

Jon shook his head and grinned.

“Har! Did you know, if a man does not use his member it grows smaller and smaller, until one day he wants to piss and cannot find it?” Tormund roared in laughter, thumping Jon’s back.

“What? No!” Well, what was even the point of arguing with his wildling friend. The cocksure wildling friend of Jon’s had a knack for taking the piss out of everyone. It was his way of showing he cared. Although Jon was thankful he had not asked Dany to accompany him here.

“Daenerys, umm, the queen does not follow any Gods Tormund. We have decided to say the words before the old Gods”.

“Har! If I had me three dragons, I would not believe in any Gods either.” Tormund chuckled. It was half truth really. Most men would do the same.

On the day of wedding, Daenerys wore a gown tailored in Westerosi fashions that dipped in the middle of her breasts leaving her slender neck and luxuriously pale skin exposed. Her midriff was barely concealed behind the intricately woven laced fabric.

The skirt of her wedding gown was an airy confection of ivory samite patterned with seed pearls. The sleeves and bodice of her gown was made with the fabled Myrish lace. Her maiden cloak was ermine, with a train of her house colors. Red dragons embroidered with dyed silver thread, on a field of black. She wore her mother’s ring, amethyst ear-rings in shape of teardrops, and a delicate string of amethysts on her neck. The way it accentuated the colors of her eyes, it took Jon’s breath away.

Jon looked handsome in his heavy silk surcoat, with his coat of arms embroidered on it, and paired it with black trousers and black, soft leather boots. It’s shoulders were tailored to look like scales of dragon. His father’s ring was the only ornament he wore. Daenerys bit he cheek when her eyes fell on him. Her heart surged with love and something carnal. It prickled her skin.

She was graceful and pure and beautiful all at the same time. “ _Enchantress_ ” Jon sighed in her ear when she stood before him. Daenerys blushed and bit her lip. She gulped any coherent words she would have wanted to say to him, her gallant and charming Prince.

Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion perched on a clearing near the heart tree and stood witness to the entire ceremony. It gladdened her heart to have the might of their house stand behind her during the most precious moment of her life.

It was an old Gods ceremony overseen by a Septon. They accepted Tyrion’s suggestion to look more inclusive and say the words of the Seven too.

Jon and Daenerys stood tall as they took their vows and spoke the words of the Gods.

When Jon cloaked her, the tips of his fingers lingered on her skin for a brief period and it sent a wave gooseprickles on her skin. “You cold my love?” he hushed playfully as if they were the only two present in that moment. Daenerys did not have a witty retort to Jon’s teasing and she just lowered her eyelashes and smiled.

Her bride’s cloak was ermine with a train of Jon’s personal sigil. A direwolf embroidered in silver-grey thread and a single red dragon, standing face to face, on a field of black. In honor of the Direwolf Maid who had married her Dragon Prince. In honor of Jon’s mother and Jon’s father.

Daenerys looked at her children with shimmering eyes. With a dip of her eyelashes she thanked them for being there. They accepted her love with roars and tilt of their heads. She then turned around and took Jon’s hand as they knelt before the sacred tree.

Daenerys was Jon’s most precious possession. He sent his silent prayers thanking the Gods for their union and sought their blessings to be able to keep her safe and happy.

Jon was Daenerys’ anchor. He was her home. She wanted Jon more than anything she had ever wanted in her life. She made an impassioned plea for his well-being and to grant him every joy the Gods could offer.

She took his graciously offered hand and together they stood before the Gods and men as man and wife, leaving all of their loneliness behind.

Jon held her close with one arm around her slim waist and other at the arch of her neck urging her to him. She rest her one hand on his broad chest and other on his side. She tilted her head upwards and saw her own neediness reflected in his eyes. His arm clutched her tighter and she parted her lips slightly. Jon teased her with his eyes. Before she could bite her lip, his lips were pressed against hers. There was wilderness and madness. Fear and joy. Their darkness, and their tongues playing together in provocation.

“You’ve made me the happiest person in all realms and beyond my love.” Jon whispered.

“So have you Jon. I love you, my husband.” She sang in his ears.

“Bring out the mead Dragon Prince! Get us drunk or you will not get away from us and put that pretty sword of yours to use! Har!”  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter draws some details from the last released book, Dance with Dragons, and from Bloodraven’s life. Did I tell you Bloodraven is my bae too?
> 
> -According to the freefolk, the old Gods are omnipresent. They live in the earth and the skies, in birds and in beasts, in streams and lakes, in rivers and seas. In death, the soul returned to the earth and united with elements of nature.
> 
> -Bloodraven’s sigil was a single white dragon on field of black. I always wanted something similar for Jon. In fact, other Targaryens too have had their own, personal version of the Targaryen sigil on their banners. All through this, the sigil of house Targaryen remained unchanged though.
> 
> Tormund's dialogue and the tree description are straight off the book.


	17. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The language of lovers.

“Jon, do you not like the wine?” Daenerys asked pointing to his goblet. “Or is my husband fearful of getting drunk on his wedding night?” She teased.

Jon leaned in purposefully, “No wife, I’m not afraid. Just that I don’t need wine to get drunk tonight.” Hearing his words, every bit of Daenerys’ skin tingled.

They burnt and simmered, drooled and waited anxiously like both prey and predator. The feast could not have grown any duller for them.

“Next time you want to bite your lips, you must ask your husband to do it for you.” He whispered pulling her lower lip with his teeth.

“Get a room, the two of you.” Someone shouted. Tormund perhaps? Tormund would not care for a room. Be that it may, it made no matter to Jon.

“Now there’s someone I can bestow a castle upon.” He looked into his wife’s violet eyes. He didn’t intend to say it out loud, but he did. There was a roar of cheerful laughter and a steady stream of bawdy comments across the Great Hall. And Daenerys blushed like the  Maiden. Her cheek were red charcoals. He could burn in the heat she was radiating.

“Jon!” Thank the Gods she interrupted his dark thoughts. “Men have eyes!” As she widened hers in chastisement.

“Not for me, Wife! And now that you remind me, you should not be here any longer.” With that, he took her hand and twined it tightly with his and got up to leave without saying a word. “Jon, we need to appropriately excuse ourselves. We are not peasants.” She pulled his hand to her and spoke in his ear.

He meaningfully bent and whispered in her ear, “Tell that to my groins and what’s between them my queen, for it does not understand royal etiquettes.” At that, she bit the inside of her cheek so hard, she tasted blood. Daenerys leaned into his warm body and he hid her in his arm. She wordlessly let Jon walk her out. A colorful trail of more bawdy cheers followed as they left the Hall. Something about baby seals and the lords kissing their wives and bent knees. For once Daenerys was thankful for her lack of understanding of the indecorous Westerosi slurs.

Ser Barristan followed them like a protective shadow. “Stay Ser, enjoy the feast. I’m sure I can protect the queen.” Jon turned around and smiled kindly when they exited the feast hall and reached the brightly lit corridors. “Most definitely you can Your Grace. But allow me this honor. I shall stand guard at your door tonight, Your Graces.” The white knight spoke with immense pride and just a hint of fatherly unease. Jon and Dany nodded politely at him.

It seemed like an eternity when they finally reached Jon’s chambers. Jon led her inside and they left the world to its providence for tonight was theirs and only theirs.

Jon swooped her in his arms and let out a moan of tenderness as he kissed her. She kissed him back with passion, wrapping her slender arms around his neck. It all seemed surreal to him.

She murmured softly in his lips, “I did not take you for a gentle lover.”

“I am not. It is taking me all of my will power to not rip your clothes and bury myself inside you.” He husked back. Her knees weakened and she surrender herself in his strong arms. “I want you to remember this night Daenerys. To remember that everything we faced, every trail and tribulation that led us here, in the end, it was all worth it.”

They lips met once more and they closed their eyes in gratitude and love, for they had a lifetime of togetherness now.

Jon’s chambers were lit with candles and a warm fire burned in the hearth. Their silken sheets were black as earth and the furs were white as snow. Their bed chamber was filled with the aromas of musk, ylang ylang and, jasmine.

Jon carried his beloved to his bed and lowered her feet gently on the floor. He reached for something in his tunic’ pocket. To her wonderment, he took her hand and slipped his mother’s ring on her finger, “For my bride.” She smiled brightly as he kissed her hand.

She wore jasmine flowers in her hair that night for he loved their fragrance. He moved behind her, facing her back, unclasped her cloak and let it fall to the ground. He reached for her hair and untied them slowly and gently, picking the flowers and securing them on his bed table.

He massaged the nape of her neck with his thumbs, gathered her hair on one side and peppered her exposed skin with soft kisses. His hand wandered through her bodice, revealing in the beauty of her womanly figure. She moaned in his palm and turned around. He took her cheeks in his hands and kissed her even more passionately, an animalistic darkness taking home inside him. He stepped back to admire her and his eyes drank in the beauty of her curves. He smiled when her neck bobbed and her chest heaved. He met her quivering lips with desire and passion.

She stilled his hand when it wandered down her front. “Don’t you dare. I’d prefer my wedding dress undamaged.” She whispered on his lips. He nodded and smiled impatiently.

She let him undress her. Smirking all through it. Smiling slyly every time his hand grew frisky and twitched to rip the delicate fabric she wore that night. _She did this on purpose, just to watch me falter_. She stopped him when she was dressed in nothing but her sheer silk peignoir. Jon was certain in those moments that he had forgotten how to breathe, or talk, or think, for there was no blood running through his brains anymore.

Daenerys was every bit a coy bride that night. She helped him unclasp and unlace his surcoat and padded leathers and lovingly tucked his curls behind his ears, leaning into him every now and then and kissing him while he watched her with lustful desire. Jon stilled her hand when it reached the laces of his shirt. She met his uncertain eyes with fervour and surety of a woman’s, a wife’s. “It is my right.” She said.

He pulled his shirt above his head and let it fall. Daenerys did not flinch. She did not gasp. Her entire being shook for an invisible moment and then she gently leaned into his unscarred side. He wrapped his arms around her and she embraced him. “Does it hurt?” she asked softly. He took her hand and placed it above his heart. “Not anymore.” A storm raged inside her. He inhaled sharply as she kissed those scars away, wanting to mark him entirely differently _._ She would etch him with her love.

 _I will be his strength_ she thought and smiled brightly when she raised her head to look at him. Jon blinked and rubbed his nose against hers. He inhaled her and placed a soft kiss under her earlobe.

“Do we have to save this too?” he whispered tugging at her peignoir.

“I have more.” She replied.

Jon did not need any more prodding. His lips were over hers once again, she pulled his laces and rubbed her palm over his hardness. He peeled away his trousers and small clothes in a heartbeat. Her tattered shift and small-clothes lay forgotten in desire, in a heap on the floor. Jon cradled her slender frame in his arms and lay her in his bed. He hovered above her, hiding her body under his without letting his weight rest on his nubile wife, kissing and fondling every part of her svelte form.

She closed her eyes and moaned ‘ _Jon’_ when she felt his eyes and fingers strolling over her neck to the middle of her breasts. He cupped her orb and splayed his fingers over it, circling her taut nipple with his thumb, making it stiffen in want. He kissed the other, sucking in the areola and flicking his tongue over the soft, pink bud. Her body betrayed any propriety she would have wanted to maintain in that moment. She threw her head back and arched upwards like a feline. Jon licked and sucked every bit of what she offered. He dragged his teeth over the supple flesh of her pert peaks and tried to gauge her excitement.

Daenerys was a vision. Her skin was pale, translucent, and delicate. Her hair fell in waves down to her waist.

“You’re beautiful my love.” He said and she let out a muffled moan.

“I love your legs.” He said as he ran his fingers combing through her beautiful, firm legs. He hunched on his bent knees and kissed her toes. His manhood was growing hard and turgid at the sight of his gorgeous wife splayed naked before his eyes and sounds of muted moans escaping her lips at his touch. He parted her legs and travelled up, kissing below her knees, one side and then the other, he raised her legs above his shoulders and kissed her calves. He licked and kissed the bend of her knees and then gathered her legs on either side of his shoulders and let them fall on the muscled frame of his back. He bent low and kissed the inside of her silken thighs. He leaned into her sex and rubbed his bearded cheek in her sweet cunt, inhaling her delicious scent.

“I love this too Dany”, he said peering into her lilac eyes and grazing his fingers languidly through the silver gold thatch of hair between her legs. Dany squeezed her legs and brought her knees together, heat of embarrassment flaring up, and she hid her face in her palms. “Let me look at you Dany. Open your legs for me love.” He moved his hands to her knees and gently prodded her to open her knees and legs to him. “I want to see and taste the treasures you’re hiding underneath this, my beautiful wife.” She closed her eyes and her stomach dipped beneath her ribs and she raised her hips, just a bit. “Jon, please.” She tried to pull him above her, she tugged his hair. He didn’t oblige. Instead, he dug his knees between her legs and ran his tongue between her slit and Daenerys let out a loud moan. _Gods!_ She prayed. And her hands slid under the cushion, gripping it tight.

He licked the flushed folds of her sex and delicately sucked her pleasure bud, savouring it, and inhaling her heady scents. Jon prodded her impervious opening with his finger. “Do you want me Dany?”

She tried to say something but she could not form words in her head, let alone a sentence. Dany’s lips parted open in breathy gasp making her shudder. She tried to close her legs again but he locked her thighs holding them apart with his arms curled around them. He licked her cunt lips and sucked them one by one. She snapped her hips and he lapped at her nub. He again dragged his tongue between the slit in torturously slow movements. He freed one arm and started rubbing her pleasure bud with his thumb and his tongue slid between her slick nether lips and in and out of her opening. As he brought her to peak, her toes curled and only incoherent words came out of her mouth. “Oh no, oh Gods.. Jon... Oh..”

When her peak subsided, he pulled back and grinned, “ Did you enjoy that my love?”

She just smiled back seductively.

He kissed the juncture of hair and her womb, the hill of her hipbones, her dipped navel, her ribs. He swiped his tongue under the sweet orbs of her chest and then he sucked her nipples till she pulled her legs in arch around his bottom and her feet nudged his groins towards her core. His length hung above her sex while he sucked a column of her neck without lowering himself inside her.

Daenerys took his manhood in her delicate hands as he kissed her clavicle. She gasped at the thickness and at the intensity of his desire. It was veined and throbbing. Its pink head was oozing, coating her fingers with his seed. Daenerys opened her eyes and licked between her fingers and wantonly moaned his name. ‘ _Jon’_.

He could have come undone at her utterance of his name and the sight of her tongue laced with his seed . “What do you think you are you doing woman?” He cranked his face in her neck and tugged his entire body into her.

‘ _My duties’_ She whispered.

“Who told you this was your duty, wife”

“The Septon says, it’s a wife’s duty to please her husband. Does this not please you, dear husband?” Jon let out a heated breath through his mouth. “This septon must never be allowed near my wife, or the sept.”

He nibbled and licked at her lips. He could taste himself on her. He kissed her until she writhed in his arms. Their pulse raced, hearts beat wildly. Her head fell back and she closed her eyes.

Jon dug his knees between her thighs and stroked his manhood. “Look at me Daenerys.”, he rasped as he felt her slickness with the tip of his penis. She pulled her body slightly to look at him, bracing herself on her elbows. He studied her lovely face. Her violet eyes lustily roamed on her man’s form. She gripped the sheets under her tightly, bracing herself for his strength. He would be merciless, she knew. His eyes told her. And she was grateful for that.

Their cores were aligned. Her neck bobbed and she threw her head back when he breached her. He slipped inside her and sheathed himself inside her hot core. Daenerys let out heated moans as he pushed deeper and deeper. He bent forward, wrapping one arm under her waist and the other under the curve of her neck. He lulled her with his slow and steady movements at first and when she begged for more, he rocked her. Dany dug her nails in his back, tightly wrapped her legs around him as he pounded her, slipping in and out of her as hard and as fast as she could take, not more, not less. Every once in a while he would try to read her face worried he might be hurting her. They were not familiar with the desires of each other’s flesh. But they will learn that too just as they have come to know of their heart’s desires. She peaked again and then lay languid in his arms, him cradling her weight and kissing her fervently. He followed soon after and shattered all hesitation that stood between them, filling her with the seed of his love.

“Mine”, he ended with.. with “I am yours”, she took him.

They did not keep a count of number of times he settled inside her as they saw stars, together.

The night was theirs and the air in their chambers was filled with soft moans and throaty growls, with prayers and mercies, with sounds of thumping of flesh on flesh, with heady scent of their fluids and with a sense of completeness most of all.

“Dany, could we go and make love under the stars? I want to see you in the moonlight.” He asked looking up at the canopy as his hardness began nudging him, again.

“We could my love, but..” She smiled, biting her bruised lips, her skin glistened and his seed overflowed her womb and soaked the furs underneath her, “I’m sore.” She admitted shyly.

He turned to her, kissed her face and straddled her between his legs. His erection hung thick above her core, twitching and teasing. He bent her legs at her knees and parted her thighs slowly. He stroked his length and gently rubbed his coated tip on her pleasure bud. In agonizingly slow strokes, his manhood reached between her wet, pink opening and teased its way up without losing contact. Her drenched nether lips kissed him as he dragged his length between them. He bent down and whispered in her ear. “Better now my love?”

She unabashedly freed her legs from his grip, spread them wide and pulled him to her throbbing opening. “I want..” She left it unsaid, only nudged him through the tilt of her eyes. “You want what Dany?” He smiled deviously.

“Take me Jon, I pray.” She swallowed her embarrassment and raised her hips to him. He plunged inside her and drew slow and deep strokes keeping his eyes peeled on her irises. His girth stretched her once again in sweet pain. Her body sang to him once more and he joined the chorus.

Jon could die and still be the happiest man on earth tonight. Or was it morning already?

“Daenerys, this was the most memorable night of my life.”

“Mine too” she smiled in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank you CallMeDeWitt for beta. Any reamining mistakes are on me.


	18. Sing a Song for Me

“As if you were on fire from within.  
The moon lives in the lining of your skin.”

    - Pablo Neruda

        x-x-x-x-x-

Westeros was ripe with rumors and hearsay. The latest in long line of chatter was that the creatures north of the Wall could not swim. This prompted a vast host of lords and ladies, and common-folk alike seeking shelter on the small island of Dragonstone.

The Crown council planned to decree that any men capable of holding a weapon would have to stand and fight for their homes and families and must not seek refuge on the island. The lords would have to return on pain of taking away their titles and bestowing them on more capable minor houses who were willing to stand beside their smallfolk.

“It is an unwelcome move your grace. The lords will revolt.” Tyrion worried in the council meeting.

“I’d like to see them revolt.” Jon said icily, clutching pommel of his sword, growing weary of politics. “What kind of liege will scurry away to a presumably safe place and leave their people behind? Why should any men follow them?” Jon had a single-minded focus on assuredly defeating the threat north of the Wall. “Do you not think there would be more discord amongst the masses if we shelter the highborn and leave people to their fates, lord Tyrion?”

Daenerys was intently listening to them. “The island is too small to accommodate these large numbers. There are no food sources. The Dothraki families and the existing islanders have only recently begun getting accustomed to each other’s presence.” She added. “Not to mention the possibility of widespread diseases when men will flock and live in poor conditions. Disease will be as much their doom as winter.” Daenerys had not forgotten death and destruction pale mare had brought on her people in the Bay of Dragons.

“It is not easy to leave their homes and lands behind, even more difficult to pick up pieces of life and move on when they have to return.” Her own life was a testament to this truth. Never having belonged anywhere, always turned away for being an outsider. Wandering from place to place, either in hiding or battling. Her life had been an endless struggle. She had come to Westeros seeking a place she could call home only to realise there was no such thing as home. She was a foreign queen here too. Until Jon.

“We can allow their heirs and women here. It’ll ensure their loyalty and *encouragement* to pay their dues to the crown. It might give them some comfort knowing their families are safe.” Jon said in understanding and Tyrion raised his goblet at the thought. “As for these gossips amongst the common-folk, we need to dispel them.”

“Why is the Citadel not doing anything about it? Is it not their utmost duty to spread knowledge and educate people? Instead they sit cooped up in a tower guarding the tomes.” Daenerys wondered aloud. She had been growing increasingly exasperated with the ways of Citadel. All the stories behind the downfall of their house and extinction of dragons in the past made her extremely wary of motives of the Citadel. They were no friends of the Targaryens.

“It may not be a good time to spook them your grace. They will only spread disquiet. I assure you, we shall deal with them when the time comes. We would break their monopoly as dispensers and keepers of knowledge.” Tyrion forewarned the Crown from making an enemy of the citadel and instead utilise them. They will need Maesters, healers and acolytes during the war. Winter was here. The Starks words have never been truer. “For now, we would task the lords to ensure these rumours cease in earnest your grace.”

**Back in their chambers**

Jon tossed the tome with one swipe of his hand and slumped in his chair in despair. _‘The Prince that was Promised’_ she picked up the strewn parchments and read the remainder of it. She had heard of the phrase earlier, once from her brother Rhaegar and then again through the Red Priests.

“More like Follies and Deceits.” Jon grew frustrated.

She reached behind his chair, curled her arms around his neck and kissed the top of his head. He held her wrists and rest his head on her arm. It was not a question for either of them if they would consider sacrificing the other in order to win the great war. But Jon worried if in desperate times someone would take up the task of becoming Azor Ahai on himself and try to bring harm to Daenerys. He could no longer ignore the perilous thought as days passed and they were no closer to finding a way to defeat the walkers. His brother Brandon Stark too had been failing to see that far in past to understand how they could defeat this threat.

It will only take one ambitious fool to bring his whole life crumbling down in a heap around him and no amount of fire or blood would restore it back to him.

“Daenerys, I was wondering if we should name Ser Barristan the castellan of Dragonstone. I won’t be here all the time love. I do not know who else to trust here. With this new horde of highborn heirs and ladies descending on the castle, it is not safe here anymore. Would you also consider naming other knights to your Queensguard?” He asked kissing her hands.

“Let me speak to him on the matter Jon.” She did not want the white knight to take this as a slight on his honor. And she did not want any capable, fighting men safeguarding her instead of being on the battle field. _It’s my home, I’m safe here. It is you who will need these fighting men more than I do._ But she would not argue this further with Jon if it meant a peaceful night’s sleep for him.

Daenerys gathered his beautiful curls in one hand and massaged the back of his neck with her thumb. She may be delicate looking, but she had a warrior’s grip. Jon moaned in comfort and minutes later, threw his head back, resting on the silks under the curve of her breasts. Her breasts fell softly on his forehead.

He pulled her to his front and she lowered herself on his groins eliciting a stifled groan from his chest. His hands traced her svelte frame through the silken fabric of the gown. Her insides tightened, and she felt a sweet ache bubbling in her lower belly. “I want you now Daenerys. I want you here.” His beard scrapped the soft skin of her cheek as he devoured her lips, nibbling and sucking them, leaving her breathless. His hand leisurely traced the length of her legs and when it met her wet core instead of small-clothes, he growled.

“Something amiss Jon?” Grey met violet. He rubbed his thumb between the slick folds of her cunt and she let out a warm breath through her parted lips. He tugged at the hem of her gown in a frenzy and she fumbled with his laces.

Growing weary of the constricted chair, Jon lifted her through her arse and pushed her on the table. He tore the front of her gown and she lay naked before his eyes. She chastised him, “Jon! I would not have any clothes left to wear if you keep up.”

“I’ll apologise later your grace” He pushed his breaches below his hips and down his ankles in anxious haste as she spread her legs around him. His manhood stood pompously erect, free of the constricting fabrics. He stroked it once and then twice before her core effortlessly sucked him in its grip. Her heart raced, and she threw her head back. Her breasts bounced with every thrust of his hips. Her fingers dug hard in his arms, her nails making thin cuts on his wrists as he sucked hard on her neck smothering his own growls in her skin.

She seized his shoulders when her dragged her to the edge of the table and carried her to their bed chambers while he was still sheathed inside her.

    x-x-x-x-x-x

The castle had been buzzing with activity for the past few days. The northerners including the freefolk would embark on their journey back home. Some would return with their families, others would remain in North. A few of them had sought refuge for their women, babes and elderly on the island of Dragonstone for they feared they would be less welcome in Riverlands if, Gods forbid, they had to flee the winter. Daenerys had given her consent for such an arrangement.

Jon asked Tormund if some of the spearwives would we willing to travel south with him on his return and be in the queen’s service as her protectors. They did not even have to forsake their families or take vows before the Gods or the Crown. Jon trusted the freefolks’ word more than any oaths.

The night before journey, the departing party and men the northerners had befriended during their stay on Dragonstone, arranged for a small feast by the beach where fresh meats were roasting, and ale and wine flowed freely.

Jon and Daenerys decided to spend some time with their people as they all had become like second kin during their long stay.

“Dragon Prince! Dragon Queen!” Tormund greeted them raising his horn of ale.

“Tormund!” Jon nodded. Dany smiled. They held hands as they walked.

Neither of the two cared much for decorum. They sat down around the fire and shared the fresh roast. Even though they both could conduct themselves impeccably regally when circumstances demanded, in truth, Jon was half a wildling in his heart and Daenerys was half Dothraki in hers. Jon had scaled the Wall and ate and lived with the wildlings without judgement. Dany had made a home with the Dothraki and ate and rode with them. When she had been stranded alone in the Dothraki Sea, she had carved a burnt horse with her arakh and had eaten it with her bare hands. This was nothing.

Tormund offered Daenerys a horn of Northern ale. She accepted it politely. Jon leaned towards her, “You don’t want to try it.” Who would Daenerys even be if she did what was asked. So, she drank deep. Well, what followed was not pleasant to say the least and Jon stared at Tormund in fury. His friend returned half a chuckle.

“Mayhaps you and I should go with the Dornish Red your grace?” Tyrion offered her a goblet and she took it gratefully.

The men gathered around the fires and sang folk songs of different peoples as the fire provided them warmth and light. The moon was painted beautifully on the dark canvas of the sky. The waves of the sea crashed and ebbed before they could reach them and it’s sound in the stillness of night was music to their ears. Although, it spoke a different tune to each of them.

The wildling men sang the song of the Singers, of the last giants. It brought a sense of grief to everyone, for what was lost to them in their own lives. Forever. These two had lost too much and had paid a steep price for what was left.

With the zenith of darkness and erotic murmuring of the seas, many memories came flooding. Some warmed their hearts, others made them feel lonelier, some were forgettable, others they wanted to hold in their hearts till their dying breaths.

Tyrion remembered his friend Bronn from the battle of Blackwater and suggested they sing The Bear and the Maiden Fair for him. He joined them when the drunk troopers swayed their ale-horns side to side and sang in chorus, _“The Bear! The Bear!”, “The fair! The fair!”._ He smilingly raised a toast in the direction of Castle Stokeworth across the Blackwater Bay.

Each time Jon or anyone had emptied their ale-horns, Tormund had poured more. Dany had lost her appetite for ale, forever perhaps. They shared jests and anecdotes and laughed boisterously. Tyrion’s honeycomb and jackass jest was cut short by Jon for he did not think it was appropriate for his queen’s ears. “Others take you”, Tormund cursed him for it.

It had been hours of singing, drinking and fooling.

Jon stretched his legs and lowered his head in Daenerys’ lap. She ran her fingers gently through the curls of his hair and lazily grazed his scalp with her nails. In that moment Daenerys felt so content and happy, she feared that she would rouse the envy of the Gods. She let go all sense of rectitude, lowered her face on his, and kissed his face with tenderness. Jon wanted to tangle his fingers in her hair, lock his lips with hers and never let go. But he only smiled and gently kissed her back. Their kiss held the nobility of love and not the brazenness of fire. Their affection was so endearing that everyone around just smiled. No bawdy jokes or laughter. Some even pretended to not have noticed.

Tyrion smiled and raised his goblet in a toast to the skies, remembering his first love, he sang

_I loved a maid as red as autumn_

with sunset in her hair

Tormund raised his ale-horn to the North remembering the fierce beauty who, in his heart he believed, waited for him at Winterfell and sang,

_I loved a maid as fair as summer_

_with sunlight in her hair._

Daenerys was ethereally beautiful and sensuous. That truth was for all to see. But she meant more than that to Jon. She was etched under his skin like the moon was etched in the sky. None could separate the two. The moon would wander and wither away without her sky and sky would fall in gloom and despair without his moon. To Jon, Daenerys’ beauty went deeper than skin, it was timeless and unbound. So he sang, he sang to her, he sang like a bard, like a lover, smiling through his eyes, eyes that would forever be for her and only her,

_I loved a maid as white as winter_

_with moonglow in her hair_

Daenerys’ breath hitched in some unnamed sweet torment and something coiled in her belly. She leaned in and kissed him again, she kissed him with abandon, her hair fell like curtains over the two lovers, shielding them from chaperones, her fingers caressed his beard and her eyes rained and soaked him in a shower of love. _She falls more and more in love with him with each passing day._ Jon’s eyes drifted, and he wished it were the last thing he sees when he would leave this world behind, one last time.

A few more songs later, and before the drunken ribaldry could begin, she nudged him awake. He snapped out of the beautiful dream, bound her hand tightly with his and pulled her up with him. Her eyes and her brows questioned, _‘What?’_. He replied, “Come, let us go.”

He let her walk a few steps ahead of him as he shared parting words with his friends. His eyes never left her. He watched her against the dark backdrop of the castle and the dark skies etched with millions of stars, none as beautiful as his beloved, none so enticing. He stared at the sway of her hips with playfulness of a lover. Desire bubbled inside him and it was beyond restraint.

She looked like the moon. In that moment, he felt like a tide. He would follow her to the ends of the world, he knew. And follow her he did.

They made sweet and needy love that night. With the skillfulness of beings that existed since the beginning of time. He sang to her as he made love. He sang about the _fair maiden_ when he nuzzled his face in her hair. He sang of the _big burly bear_ when he bit her earlobe and dragged his teeth through her neck and her breasts.

He sang of the _sweet peaches_ when he kissed her pink rosy peaks and they stiffened under his tongue. He kissed and sucked her bellybutton when she arched and offered herself to him. He trailed below and spread her thighs to lick her cunt and sang of the maiden who had _honey in her hair_.

When Daenerys traced his muscled form with her hands and lips, he could have unraveled and satiated himself in her fire. Jon had been cold all his life. Until her. He had become hers since the first time she touched him. He sang to the warmth in her touch.

He groaned aloud as he thrust hard into her. Sliding in and out of her honeyed cunt, they sang a different tune, that of wants of flesh. When they raptured and peaked at the same time, they beseeched the Gods, and their song was more of a lovers’ prayer, ending in the other’s name upon their lips.

Jon was lying on his side and repeatedly singing _maid with moonglow in her hair_ when he swerved off to sleep between his wife’s soft bosom, resting his head in the crook of her arm.

He would feel stupid and ridiculous tomorrow. But today he was intoxicated, drunk on his beloved’s love and her beauty.

She wrapped her arms around him, nuzzled his hair and smilingly rest her cheek on top of his head. She kissed him in affection while he slept, even though he may not remember it.

Their bodies and legs were coiled around each other and he had made a sticky mess between her thighs. The heaviness of his muscled thighs hurt her lithe legs but the pleasure of his weight on her was ecstatic. That night, as Jon slept in her arms, wrapping her tightly in his embrace, Daenerys lay awake. Clutching him to her heart, she sent a vehement prayer to the Gods, “Old Gods, Gods of my good-mother, bless my babe with voice as melodious as my husband’s.”, and closed her eyes in reverence.

She desperately sought two blessings in one.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Seasons of my Love' is a Myrish song that Tysha, Tyrion's first wife, used to sing to him.
> 
> Dear Lillian81, hopefully you will remember when you commented “Would love to see Jon with his father’s talent at singing, now that you’ve mentioned it.” on the first drabble I posted on Ao3.. 
> 
> I wrote 'something' :)


	19. Dark Wings Dark Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dany’s queensguard is in place now. It comprises of spearwives, the unsullied and Dothraki blood riders. Ser Barristan is still the commander of queensguard. Ser Davos due to Jon's trust in him and since he had lived on Dragonstone for a long time, is named the castellan of Dragonstone.

 

Jon had a flair for wielding weapons even though he admitted to Daenerys that it was not something he enjoyed. He rode with the Dothraki and picked up their flamboyant arakh wielding skills in no time, he learnt to wield spears and shields the way unsullied did and got fairly good at it. But his passion were swords. It had begun back at Castle Black, with his determination to become worthy of the Valyrian steel blade, Longclaw.

He would practise his swordsmanship with whoever would be willing to embarrass themselves in presence of the ladies of the royal court. Soon, he ran out of sparring partners and he had to take up the role of the trainer. Jon helped any wards who wished to improve their skill and wanted to learn from him.

On some days Ser Barristan would oblige him and on other days, his fellow northerners and wildlings would spar with him. They cared less for formalities and even lesser for any perceived embarrassment. They gave him as good as he dealt. They weren’t always honourable in their ways but Jon knew better than anyone that war is anything but.

Sparring was not an act of violence for him. His time on the training yards centred him. He always felt a sense of calm once he found his rhythm. That, and his wife’s presence. She held him together.

After his sparring sessions, he would join his sparring partners and clean-up at the castle bath-house before retiring to his chambers and waking Dany. They always broke their fast together.

In all the time Jon had earlier known Daenerys, she always slept restlessly. Even fitfully at times. They both carried their own demons. However, to Jon’s heart’s delight, since they wed, her nightmares had nearly vanished, and her sleep was tranquil. She slept for longer hours and the much-needed rest brought a bright glow to her cheeks and she looked even more ravishing than before, if that was even possible that is.

   x-x-x-x-x

He neatly stacked all the parchments they had received and walked back to his bed chambers. Daenerys was reading in bed. He shrugged his cloak and slumped beside her. He became curious when he noticed some colourful drawings in the tome.

“What is that?”

“It was for children who grew up here I suppose.”

“Oh. I’m tired Dany, shall we sleep now?” He blew the candles before she could answer.

  x-x-x-x-x

They were returning from the council meeting.

“Jon, I want to eat blood sausages.”

“Ok Dany.”

“Jon?”

“Humm”

“I want to eat strawberry cakes. And pigeon pies too. And venison.”

“Are we throwing a feast for someone my love?”

Dany huffed.

“Alright, I’ll send for the servants.”

“And no fish. I hate the smells.”

“No fish then.”

  x-x-x-x-x

“Jon, Lady Tollett is with child.” She told him as she lay in his arms, basking in post-coital glow.

“Humm. We are at war. I don’t know how safe it would be for them to raise a child in such circumstances.” He did not want her to think of adoption again. Atleast not yet. They were both young and Jon believed in his heart the Gods will bless them some day.

“You could be right, I suppose. It is unwise indeed.” She replied in a small voice.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Jon had to go to Reach and plan for the evacuation efforts if the need arose and to take stock of their granaries and supply lines.

Daenerys had to be in Dorne where bulk of their Dothraki and their families were stationed since Dragonstone could not house such large numbers and the Dornish were more accepting than the other kingdoms. Not to mention, they owed them for siding with the pretender during earlier war.

She kissed him farewell at the cliff before they went for their mounts.

“You look resplendent my love.” He whispered when he withdrew his lips from hers and observed her face carefully.

“There’s something you need to know Jon.” She offered an ambivalent smile.

“What is it Daenerys?”

“Nothing too important. Will tell you when we are back.”

Jon noticed the hesitation in her tone. He insisted she tell him but she promised to talk when they returned.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Jon had returned to Dragonstone two days before Daenerys did. He waited anxiously for her. He was at the cliff when he had an inkling she was coming back.

He hugged her in a tight embrace. “What were you going to tell me Dany before we left?”

“Can we first go to our chambers Jon?” She looked very tired.

“Of course.” He protectively curled his arm around her.

They ran into Maester Pylos on their way there. “Your graces, we received a raven from the Wall. It says you must see it at once.”

x-x-x-x-x-x

_There have been white walker sightings close to Eastwatch, along with a horde of wights._

She understood what this meant but did not want to say it for the fear that it might become true.

She feigned ignorance. “So? We have our best fighting men and experienced battle commanders at every post. We can send as many reinforcements you deem fit. The North has not been left in want of anything, isn’t it?”

“I want to see the gardens.” She tried to drag him outside. The walls of their solar were closing in on her.

Jon rubbed his forehead desperately. He understood what she was trying to do.

He pulled her back. “Listen to me Daenerys.”

He locked her arm in his and clutched her hand tightly when he spoke next.

“I need to travel to the Wall and ascertain the implementation of our war efforts and get to the truth behind these sightings. Those people are there for the realm. I should be there, leading them. My communications through Samwell Tarly have been regular so far. Mayhaps I need to speak with Bran myself now.”

“You spoke with Bran six moons ago when you went back North. He would have informed you if something had changed.” She said.

“Six moons is a long time Daenerys. Please try to understand.” He spoke softly.

“When would you return?” she asked.

“Three moons I think.” He said sadly. “On my way back, I will travel through the Neck and the Riverlands. Should anything unfortunate happen and the Wall is breached, people will flock south and we have to be prepared for such an eventuality.”

“You’re the leader of our armies Jon. You cannot travel to the most dangerous place on the planet. Have you ever considered what we would do if something were to happen to you? Send some else. Anyone but you Jon.” Her voice broke. She needed to end the discussion.

“I have to do this Dany. And you know it.” He said bringing her palm to his lips.

She softened her voice, “Drogon and I could come with you. We can help you Jon. Take Rhaegal with you. We can return here sooner.” _Don’t leave me alone._

“You cannot come with me my love. I will constantly be on move. Also, you are needed here. Tyrion cannot be the one running your kingdom, the peace is rather volatile.” He kissed her forehead. “The Volantene and the cities of Bay of Dragons trust no one but the daughter of Valyria. We need their aid and resources.”

“Should we need the entire Dothraki to march north, I shall send you raven. You will have to give them orders. You can easily oversee Reach, Crownlands and Stormlands too if you are at Dragonstone.”

“Your place is here my love.”

“I can send ravens from North. I’ll warn Tyrion. Sternly! I’ll … I’ll send Ser Barristan to treat with the Volantene. They know and trust him since Meereen..” Her mind hopelessly wandered through all possible solutions she could offer at the time. Even if neither of those made sense to her.

“You know none of this would work, don’t you? And Daenerys, it gives my heart great peace knowing you are home with people who would fall on their swords before they let any harm come to you.” He pulled her to his chest.

“I do not need protecting!” She pushed him, but he did not let go.

“No, you do not. But my heart does.” Jon closed his eyes and his heart began to beat erratically. “Don’t make this more difficult than it already is my love. You know I have to do this, and you have your duties too.”

“What is there to say then when you have made up your mind.” She cannot refute his compelling arguments, but her heart still rips.

She struggled breathlessly against him, he still held her tight.

Daenerys collapsed in Jon’s arms.

“Dany!”

“Get the Maester, now!” he screamed wildly at the guards.

 


	20. Vows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post both chapters together but I guess this isn't too late.

 

“Your Grace,” Maester Pylos interrupted his ominous thoughts “I am not sure what is wrong with the Queen. Her breathing is uneven but her pulse is steady, albeit a bit faster. May I ask if something has been worrying her grace lately? I do not wish to give her milk of poppy unless I know.”

  

Jon recalled every word she had said to him in past two weeks. Every whisper, every whim, every craving, every tantrum. She seemed happy enough through all of it. Even when she was cross with him, she bore a smile on her face. _If I were a better man, I would know what was happening with my wife_. In a resigned voice he sent for her confidante.

 

Missandei requested Jon to stay by his queen’s side and that she would go outside and speak with the maester.

  

“Your grace, I shall leave some dream-wine here. Should the queen wake up in pain, please administer it or send for me immediately.” He bowed respectfully and left.

 

“Not you Missandei. I need to speak with you.” Jon said. “Tell me, is this what I think it is?” _Please Gods, let this be true._

 

 “Your grace, it is not my place to say anything. You must hear it from the queen.” Missandei hesitated. She seemed joyous nevertheless.

 

He did not allow her to leave and made sure he learnt from Missandei everything that had happened right under his nose and he had been oblivious to.

 

Once he was alone, he fidgeted and paced the chambers. He was heartbroken and confused. Did his wife not trust him enough to share the biggest joy of their lives? The more he thought, more he realized he might have himself to blame for her secrecy. Missandei had told him the queen did not seek the maester’s confirmation and was not certain.

  

Not knowing what to say to his wife when she wakes up or how to react, he did what he knew best, he bottled up his emotions.

  

He was sitting next to Dany, holding her hand like a prayer when she woke up. He held a bewildered gaze, but when he looked into her violet eyes, he finally surrendered to his emotions. He apologized profusely to her, letting his tears flow. “I’m sorry Daenerys, I’m sorry. I should have understood, I should have known. I should have never let you fly away from that cliff or left you with your thoughts alone, I should have held your hair up when you got sick every morning.” He kissed her hands and bathed them in his tears.

 

She sat up immediately “Jon, please. Don’t. How would you have known?” she smiled through her tears and patted her side of bed and he squeezed in, holding her.

  

“I understand it is not wise to have a child under these circumstances. With war and …” She choked a sob. “No no no.. The things I said about Tollett’s having a child, I did not mean for you Dany, I will protect you and our babe with my last breath, you know that, right? Do not ever think that you or our children will ever be an inconvenience my love. I just thought .. Forgive me, please.” He repeatedly kicked himself in his head for appearing so insensitive and unknowing, time and again.

 

For a very long time that followed, they sat huddled together like children, vacillating, fearing the worst of fate and yet hopeful and joyous beyond compare.

 

Daenerys sought her handmaidens’ help and Jon waited outside in the anteroom. She dismissed all of them after she had taken a bath and changed her clothes. She placed her hand above his flexing one and pressed it firmly. He inhaled her in his body and soul and hesitantly asked her if she can feel their babe yet and everything else she could tell her foolish husband. He listened to every word of hers intently, not wanting to miss anything else.

 

When she pressed his palm on her abdomen, he breathed heavily.

 

“How long has it been Dany?”

 

“Two moons. I think.”

 

He then remembered they have been married for two moons. “I’m a fucking stupid bastard.” He swept his fingers in his hair so roughly, he may have pulled out a few strands.

 

“Now don’t speak ill about my brother and good-sister.” She let out an insouciant chuckle and dissolved in his embrace.

 

“Dany, I think I can feel our babe nestled between us.” He whispered in her ear. “Unhun, I see.” She smiled.

 

                      x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

He sent ravens forbidding any scouting missions North of the Wall until his arrival and stayed with Daenerys until she gained strength.

 

In the following three weeks, Jon had every children’s book in the library brought to their chambers, they always ate together and never once he allowed fish in their meals. He went for walks with her, whenever she wished. He proudly stood by her with his arms on her shoulders when she visited her sons and they took a whiff of their unborn sibling.

 

Maester Ebrose arrived at Dragonstone on Samwell Tarly’s recommendation because Pylos was young and rather inexperienced in matters of childbirth. Dragonstone had not seen birth of a dragon since Daenerys Stormborn and the thought haunted her ever so often. Jon too had lost his mother and he fared no better. Neither of them shared their fears. Arrival of Lady Marya Seaworth brought a pleasant distraction to Daenerys.

 

“Westeros will have its heir.” she said one day when she was beginning to hope. She was curled against her husband, her hand and head resting on his marred chest.

 

“You mean to send me away now that you have no need for me, don’t you?” He pretend-pouted, his fingers idly roaming on the curve of her beautiful behind.

  

“I can always find some use for this.” She let her fingers wander between his legs.

 

“I’m glad I can still be of use to her grace.” He rolled her underneath his body.

 

“Jon, you will be the father of Prince or Princess of Dragonstone. You’re the king now.” She raised her lower body to meet his.

 

“Am I?” he said nuzzling and kissing the hollow of her neck. “Yes! Ah. Yes, you are.” She moaned and bit his scapula.

 

Next day, she made him affix his seal to the royal documents declaring him her equal, the King of Seven kingdoms. He did get some concession. She promised she won’t ever make him wear the crown, if he didn’t wish. And he vowed to himself that he would never decide anything when she was in bed with him.

  

Three weeks later, Daenerys bid farewell to her husband. She had not asked him to stay. Not even once.

 

“Remember your promise Jon, you had said you will always come back to me. And do not do anything stupid.” She had repeatedly reminded and warned him the night before he left. Jon had kissed her. Like a lover pouring all his love in the meeting of their lips and willing his beloved to feel every emotion he feels for her. He meant to keep his promise.

 

Jon and Rhaegal left for the Wall. He visited all the castles that were currently manned and met the commanders and soldiers stationed there. Finally, Jon camped at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.

 

 


	21. Beyond the Wall

“Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it inflames the great.”

― Roger de Bussy-Rabutin

**x-x-x-x-x**

Weeks ago, Jon had sent a raven to Bran inquiring if he could see something in his vision or if he could tell him anything useful regarding the recent sightings. A message waited for Jon at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.

 

_Something was blocking Bran’s green-sight. He could warg into ravens and see White Walkers positioned around a mountain shaped like arrowhead, Others were approaching from different locations across frozen lands in multiple smaller hordes and could takes days if not weeks to gather._

 

Tormund had arrived from Dragonstone and gathered experienced wildling scouts and riders from the Thenn clans in the meantime.

 

“None of these knights and armies camped here have ever seen a white-walker or an undead horde, leave alone fight one. This could be a way for them to familiarize with their undead opponent and the torturous, snowy terrain of the North.” Yohn Royce had suggested and there was some merit to the idea.

 

Jon knew that the wights are nothing but rotten flesh and bones and were no skilled fighters and their strength lay in their overwhelming numbers. The living had enough Valyrian steel swords and dragon-glass weaponry to take on a small horde.

 

It was decided they would kill as many soldiers in the Nights King army as they can and retreat back to the Wall. If they could find and kill an Other or two, it would prove favorable in their later war efforts.

 

Frozen North was not an easy terrain for the horses to break into full gallop but it was more efficient than men trudging through the snows. Also, should the need arise to end the campaign and fall back, their mounts would provide them a faster means of escape.

 

The mounted knights of the Vale and nights watchmen, led by the King himself, were the first to ride out. Another cavalry unit stood vigil, ready to charge, at the edge of the Haunted forest. Men tire but the wights do not. Should they need help, they would release the ravens and light pitch using small quantities of wildfire they would carry with them. Thoros of Myr had often used wildfire to set his sword alight and he shared his knowledge about how to transport and stabilize small quantities of it.

 

The whole thing was an ambush. They had been lured in the middle of a land mass that looked much like Gods’ Eye when a spear launched by a White-Walker lodged itself in the frozen ice and shatters the surface of the lake surrounding the landmass. The knights were now stranded on an island that had appeared in the middle of nowhere.

 

The wights that had earlier been running away from the knights, turned around from their flight and circled them.

 

Jon and his men surrounded the peripheries with pitch, ready to set alight should the wights approach them, and released all ravens at once hoping some of them would find way to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea or could be spotted by the waiting armies. They could not ride out to meet them due to barrier created by water and neither did the wights try to approach them.

 

Jon curiously watched the Others that were witnessing the scene unfold before them and understood that they had orchestrated the entire thing. But why? The iced waters were beginning to freeze but the surface was not strong enough to bear the weights of mounted soldiers.

 

It was Rhaegal’s orange and green fire and thunderous roar that shattered the stillness of time. Jon immediately commanded his men to create landing space for the dragon in the middle.

 

The Night King turned his gaze upwards towards the sky as though he was anticipating something or someone. Jon’s men insisted he mount the dragon and call for aid from the cavalry units that stood ready to charge at his signal. The horde was not too large for them to splinter. They just needed to get to them.

 

As Jon and Rhaegal took to the sky, a giant ice spear left the hand of the Other and barely missed the vulnerable belly of the dragon.

 

Rhaegal let out a loud shriek and scorched a large portion of wights and Jon quickly maneuvered him away from the Night King.

 

Jon cursed himself for possibly dooming the lives of good fighting men, but he knew that they needed aid and they could not afford to lose a dragon. No castle forged weapon could break hardened ice with a single blow. The weapons of Others’ were forged from ice magic and they had waited and tried to use it on Rhaegal.

 

It was on his way back to the castle along the Wall that Jon noticed two units of cavalry, one led by the Hound and Brienne of Tarth, and the other led by Sigorn, the Magnar of Thenn on their way towards the spot where they had been trapped. Fortunately, the ravens released by the stranded men had found their way to the waiting cavalries and rescue was on its way. He left quick instructions with both units and flew Rhaegal away from the Others.

 

Jon anxiously waited for his men to return. It would have been a folly if he rode out alone or risked Rhaegal once again without fully understanding the Others’ powers and purpose.

 

All units returned to the Wall by nightfall with much fewer casualties than Jon had anticipated. Brienne of Tarth had been successful in killing a White Walker and reported that numerous undead fell with him. The Night King had escaped before their arrival.

 

The living required Bran’s green-sight now more than ever. Jon left further instructions with men who were guarding the Wall across all garrisons, and he and Rhaegal flew in the direction of Winterfell.

 

As long as the Wall stood, it will protect the lands of the living.

 

**x-x-x-x-x**

It was strange for him when at his arrival, Winterfell accorded all courtesies befitting a King to him. He pulled on the arms of his brother and sisters and hugged them tight when they knelt for him.

 

“I told her we didn’t need to do that.” Arya twitched one side of her lip upwards and pointed towards Sansa.

 

Jon knelt before Ghost and curled his arms around his brawny neck. “I have missed you my friend.” He said and leaned into his silent, furry companion. It always was most difficult for him to say farewell to his direwolf. But Winterfell and the wolfswoods of the north were Ghost’s territory and now that Ghost had Nymeria to play with, Jon knew it would be unfair to uproot his friend from its home. So Ghost stayed at Winterfell. That did not mean he let him away from his sight during his stays.

 

Jon went straight to the Godswood to pray to the Old Gods and to offer his heartfelt gratitude for what was left of his family and everything the Gods had granted him. He visited the crypts to pay his respects to his Stark ancestors and prayed to his foster father and his mother to keep Dany and their unborn child safe. He silently clung to Lyanna’s statue and let his tears fall.

 

He spent the next few hours inquiring about Winterfell and his siblings’ well-being. Sansa asked him about his wedding and if he had gifted any presents to Daenerys. Jon pushed some of the memories to the back of his mind and told her everything else that that was polite enough to be shared. He asked his sisters if either of them had someone precious enough for their brother to meet. Both of them mysteriously evaded answering his query, leaving him a bit suspicious and a lot flustered.

 

Rickon showed him how good he was getting at archery and spears. He could joust well and would win tourneys one day, Rickon told him.

 

Winterfell hosted a small welcome feast for the King after which Jon quickly excused himself and went straight to his brother Bran who had left a message for him to see him later.

 

This Brandon Stark was a husk of the lively boy Jon had once known. Jon cursed the moment Bran had fallen from the broken tower. That was beginning of a vicious cycle of destruction their family had gone through.

 

“I only see frozen seas and the Great Other searching for an ice dragon.” Bran said eerily and his words set dread inside Jon. Did he mean Dany’s dragons? Or him or Dany? Bran did not respond when Jon asked him what he meant by ice dragon.

 

“Gods!” Jon said and helplessly slumped to the ground.

 

“Did you fucking lose your tongue and wits too. Can you not tell us more clearly what in Seven Hells all of this means?” Arya was always mindful of the strangeness that had crept inside her and her siblings, but she lost her temper in the moment.

 

“Arya! Is this how you must speak to your brother?” Sansa reprimanded her sister for her insensitivity.

 

“I’m tired. I’m tired of all of this. Will it ever end?” Arya said.

 

“We all are tired Arya. And so is Bran. He is a watcher, sitting in one place helplessly watching the past and future unfold before him. His burden is too great little sister.” Jon ran his hands over top of Arya’s head and pressed his lips to it.

 

“You have a silver tongue now! Mayhaps you both together should find a way.” She spoke through her laughter and tears.

 

“We just might!” He half jested.

 

“Jon, there are ravens from Dragonstone and from other garrisons across the Wall. And this one has your sigil. I didn’t open it like you instructed.” Samwell Tarly was Jon’s trusted friend and advisor. He was a maester of sorts and Jon’s confidante.

 

Jon swiftly read all the messages, but he knew he will have to read all of those once again. He had to get away from everyone’s prying eyes first.

 

“Let us read this one now.” Sansa teased him.

 

“You too now, sister? I thought we atleast have one lady in the family to teach my daughters some manners!”

 

They all turned to him in bewilderment.

 

_Seven Hells!_

 

“I’m sorry, I did not want to share this news with you through a raven.” He had an amused but apologetic look on his face. He grinned widely at them when he said, “Dany is with child. I am going to be a father!”

 

 _We’re going to be aunts and uncles!_ His siblings were truly happy for him, he knew. They chirped in joy and huddled together, promising his child the protection and love of the direwolf clan.

 

Arya looked at Bran, and when she observed a knowing look on his face, she exclaimed mockingly, “Don’t tell me you saw _that_!”

 

“Arya!” Sansa and Jon chided her once again. Jon blushed and left with the letter, walking fast enough to not get caught until he had read it.

 

x-x-x-x-x

_Jon,_

_Your chambers await you._

_They have been lying abandoned since you left. I thought if I stayed in your bed, in your furs, the illusion of having you near me would soothe my heart. This place that was all ours, the place where the little girl inside me was finally safe from her demons and fears even in the black of night, the place where my nightmares left me for good, the place where you honored me by asking me to be your wife, the place where you sowed the beginnings of life inside me. That place was no longer the same without you my love. You were the life and soul of it._

_The chambers are just that. Nothing more._

_That place lives only in my memories and in my heart since you are gone._

_When I toss and turn in bed and do not find your comforting arms, it shatters my heart. When your furs smell of you, but they do not shiver under the touch of my fingers, it frustrates me. When I seek your raven curls and my hand falls on an empty cushion, I clench my fists in despair and in anger too._

_Sometimes I remember you hunched on the desk by the fires, writing your letters or immersed in tomes, I pour wine for us both and seek you out, but you’re not there to share it with me._

_Every morning, the sound of steel on steel in the sparring yards is no longer the song of my beloved, it has become my worst nightmare. I think of the storm my love is caught amidst of. It brings me dread._

_The fires in its hearth still burn, my love. Come and claim your chambers. Come, help me find myself, Jon._

_I remember other things too, my love. Ones I wish to show you when you are here._

_I await you. I miss you._

_Yours,_

_Daenerys_

_Jon, the maester says our babes are healthy. I thank the Gods._

Jon read the letter scores of times and could not stop his tears from falling. He picked up a quill and wrote with his trembling hands.

_Daenerys,_

_Did you say babes? Do not toy with my heart, my love. It can only take so much happiness in a lifetime._

_I miss you too, Dany. How can I not? You taught me what it meant to live, to love, to hope._

_The memories of lilac of your eyes, of your skin on mine, of your silver hair between my fingers, of your body curved against mine are the only things that keep me from doubting my sanity, my love._

_I shall always come back to you. I intend to keep all my oaths to you. And once I am with you, remind me again what it feels to be alive._

_I love you and our babes, Dany._

_\- Jon_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the end, its just a fic. And I got carried away. :)


	22. The Dragon King’s Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon was returning to Daenerys nearly three moons later..

Jon dismounted from Rhaegal and walked down the cliff, towards the castle.

 

His queen, love of his life, she met him at the gates of the castle, no, his home. She had grown large with their babes and was smiling proudly through her tears. He knew it was not appropriate for him to gaze at her or her stomach for so long, but he could not help himself. His jaw slackened for a heartbeat, and he was not sure why there were drops of water on his cheek. It wasn’t raining. And the commander of the Queen’s armies, whom she deviously named her King, could not be seen tearing-up in front of half her court.

 

She had a protective arm under her belly and with the other she was clutching her heart. Did she think it’ll leap out of her chest?

 

She was unmoving. Not because she was a queen, because she loved him, and she had prayed for his return every single day. That much he was certain of. He himself had prayed to all the Gods to allow him to go back to her. To see her, to give him a chance to hold his babes and then they could do with his life, whatever they willed. If they granted him that boon, he may never ask for anything more. Seeing her like that, cradling his babes inside her, his proud and loving wife, joyous to see him, he may swamp the earth with Godswoods and Septs now.

 

“Your Grace”, he tilted his head in courtesy and tried to sound nonchalant. He would let her establish the grounds of their meeting, follow whatever etiquettes she wished.

 

“Jon”, she threw herself in his arms and wrapped her own arms around his neck. Her tears soaked the skin of his neck and his beard. And whatever rains had fallen on his cheek, he drenched her hair in those waters.

 

He wanted to hold her tight, but he did not know if that would vex their babes. He had not been fortunate enough to see her grow their children inside her or to know what was the proper thing to do in her condition. When he had left, there was hardly anything noticeable. Just a small swell above her ... he did not want to think of that now. 

 

“Will I hurt you?” he hesitated. She hugged him tight and pressed her swell against him. He had never been happier he thought. Maybe one other time. But this was different. He ignored all of the lords and ladies that were gawking at them in scandalous indignation. Mayhaps he was not supposed to kiss the queen of the seven kingdoms on her lips and twine his fingers in her hair and whisper “I love you” in her ear. _What do they know? Let them question me._ His sword hand flexed.

 

Jon held her close to his body as they walked back inside. One arm around her and other resting on his sword. He doesn’t remember the pleasantries he may or may not have exchanged with all those who had gathered there. But given that she was not scowling, perhaps he did.

 

They passed through the courtyard where girls were training to shoot a bow and arrow accurately.

 

As they crossed the Great Hall, Jon noticed a highborn lady teaching letters to children and women as well. “Any man or woman can read, my King. There is no magic needed, nor high birth. We shall have need of people who will know their letters when each of the Seven Kingdoms has its own Citadel.” Jon kissed her forehead in pride.

 

He had been sending regular updates of their war efforts to her through ravens. Still, she must surely have many more questions for him. He had to explain what happened at Eastwatch and he did not know how he must tell her that her dragons were not as invincible as they had thought them to be.

 

“Come, let us go to our chambers.” Is all she said.

 

He carried her up the tower as she mumbled “Jon, you don’t have to do this, I walk these steps by myself every day.”

 

“And I am sorry for it Daenerys.” Is all he said kissing her tenderly. She tightened the hold of her arms around him and tears welled in her eyes.

 

Daenerys, the queen in Essos and Westeros, played a devoted wife the day her husband returned to her. She had a warm bath waiting for him in their chambers. She rejected Tyrion’s proposal for the King and Queen to dine with the assembled courtiers and called for a private supper in their solar. “I have already allowed a royal welcome. No more.” She had told him.

 

She stood nervously waiting by their dining table when Jon returned from his soak. His hair were damp, his beautiful curls lay limp and he was wearing his woolen trousers, a warm shirt and boots. “Leave us.” she waved servants away.

 

Jon could only wait until he heard the click of their chamber doors before he rushed to her and kissed her demandingly on her mouth. Her cheeks and lips felt warm and sensuous in his palms as they moaned through their breaths. Daenerys ran her fingers through his hair and beard, his jawline was even more prominent. “You look handsome my love.” She turned sideways and curled into his chest. “You look irresistible, wife.” He said savoring a whiff of her skin.

 

Jon ran his hand gently over the place his babes were nesting. “Babes is it Dany?”

 

She held her tears back, “Yes. Maester Ebrose thinks so.” She placed his palms on two separate spots on her belly. He felt feeble kicks on both his palms. “They were asleep, you roused them.” Jon did not know how his heart was still beating for his wife had drowned him in joy.

 

Before he could fall on his knees and thank her, she said “Jon, eat. You must be famished.”

 

They squirreled their food uninterestedly and before long, Jon stood up from his chair. “Are you not hungry?” she worried.

 

“Not for food.” He replied and lifted her in his arms. With one arm under her knees and other curled under her chest, he carried her to their bed.

 

Jon undressed himself till he was wearing only a shirt. Getting rid of her soft pale leather boots and pushing the hem of her gown up her legs, he traced the once familiar path up her leg to the juncture of her thighs. Her body shimmed restlessly against the silks and furs of their bed as he nosed her smallclothes away, without ridding her of them and tongued her sex, drawing rich, arousing moans from her.

 

Daenerys reached down and rubbed his groins with her toes causing him to hiss between her slick folds. As her desperation grew, she fell back on the bed and nudged him with her heels, but he continued to growl and taste her cunt, bringing her to peak and then removed her soaked smallcothes and moved to the laces of her gown. “I have to see you, love.”

 

“Jon,” she placed her palm on his broad chest and said hesitantly, “you may find it .. different”. Her face wan contorted in an unknown worry.

 

It confused him. “What?”

 

She swallowed, and her eyes went to the bulge of their babes.

 

His eyes widened in horror. He lowered her gown that was bunched up around her groins and covered her legs. He settled by her side and embraced her with the entirety of his body and soul too if she could feel it.

 

“You’re nurturing life inside you Dany. How can it be anything but beautiful? It is a blessing. The one Gods sent only for you. A blessing I wished for but it could not have been fulfilled by anyone else in my life.”

 

Jon slid his palm gently in the curve of her neck and underneath her chin, tipping her face to his, and kissed her cheeks and lips delicately. Dany’s soft moans and parted lips were an invitation for his needy tongue.

 

“I was envious Daenerys. Envious of all those people who saw you each day as you grew my babes inside you.” He whispered in on her lips. “They witnessed your growing beauty and your small gestures like when the babes would frolic inside you and your hand would calm them. I was envious of all those handmaidens of yours who would help you bathe and dress and feel my babes while I was chained to duty that took me away from you.”

 

Jon moved his hand gradually down her neck, caressing her supple skin with his fingers, and undid the fastenings her gown, one by one. “You’re the most beautiful woman in all realms Daenerys. And you are my wife. I was going mad by the day, wondering what you would be doing while I was not here.” She purred under his touch and he let out a sigh of arousal as his one hand trailed underneath the bodice of her gown and palmed the roundness of her now heavy breasts. ‘ _Fuck’_ he shuddered as he was strangely more aroused on not finding any small clothes there.

 

“Remind me what it means to be alive Daenerys and show me everything else I have missed.”

 

He kissed her clavicle with an open mouth and his wife arched and threw her head back with a warm gasp escaping her lips. He pulled her gown away from her chest, down her shoulders. She tasted sweet on his tongue as he dragged it over her rounded orbs and flicked her taut teats.

 

“Jon” She moaned his name, slipping her hands in his hair, pulling him tighter to her bosom.

 

He leaned in and licked and stretched her nipples with his lips and teeth. He had been desperate and overwhelmed and had been away from her for far too long.

 

His manhood was straining against the underside of her belly and he slipped himself between the swollen folds of her cunt and inside his wife’s core. Jon continued playing with her breasts and worked her clit with his fingers, occasionally thrusting his cock in and out of her. He stilled and bit his tongue in ecstasy when her muscles tightened around his erection and she moaned his name in his ear.

 

Daenerys winced as she climbed down from her peak and he moved out of her, gently caressing her and murmuring “Are you alright Dany?”, “Did I hurt you?”

 

Breathless as she was, she smiled for him, and pulled him into a kiss. “I’m more than fine.” She said nibbling on his lower lip.

 

Daenerys pushed his shoulders, nudging him to remove his shirt and lie on his back. She pulled her gown above her head and tossed it aside. Jon groaned at the impossible sight of his wife, straddling him and fisting his hardness, stroking its length in torturous slow movements. He would spill on her hand if she did not stop or if he watched her for too long. So, he closed his eyes.

 

“Look at me Jon. See what is only yours to see.” When he opened his eyes, he howled in ecstasy. Her nether lips were open for him and she impaled herself on his turgid pole in one swift move.

 

He fisted and kneaded her plump arse encouraging her to move up and down on him and leaned her towards him. She caught the rails of the ornate headrest and braced herself on her knees while he nipped her teats one by one and thrust her from below. His thrusts were controlled at first until she demanded, “Harder, Jon”. He thrust faster, supporting her belly protectively with his arms as she leaned in, and sucked and stretched her tender teats as she yelled ‘ _oohs’_ and ‘ _aahs’_.

When she peaked, her walls rhythmically clenched around his manhood and she moaned his name many times over, setting alight a primal satisfaction inside him. A few thrusts and jagged breaths later, Jon came apart. Growling his beloved’s name through his deepened breaths, he let streams of his hot seed inside her delicious cunt.

 

Dany climbed down from her high and lay by his side. They were smiling, and they were whole again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any man can read, my lord. There is no magic needed, nor high birth.  
> \-- Maester Pylos, ASOIAF


	23. Touch My Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon & Dany spend some time together. 
> 
> (Yeah, that's the best I could come-up with!)

Jon walked briskly towards his solar. He had not seen Daenerys all day and that always made him petulant and sent his attendants scrambling on their feet. He had _forbidden_ her from taking the stairs and it was the first time she had paid any mind to it.

He quickly shed his ceremonial garb and after a quick wash, he threw on a more functional attire before entering their bedchambers.

Daenerys called out his name in her honeyed voice and welcomed him with a bright smile. She was reclining on the bed with her back resting against a bundle of pillows. Blankets and furs were thrown away from her legs. “Dany, aren’t you cold? Where are your handmaids?” he worried as he sat down by her side. Her soft kiss on his lips eased all his tiredness. “Don’t worry Jon, your babes were sweating me out.” She complained light-heartedly.

“Oh, so they are my babes now! We’ll see once they are here, who keeps them all to themselves.” He teased her back.

Jon moved to the foot of the bed and began massaging her feet with a gentle press of his fingers and thumb. “oh.. ah…Jon, this feels so good..”  moans of relaxation inadvertently escaped her lips and it whirled a lascivious storm in his groins. “Dany, you need to stop making those sounds now, its been too long for your poor husband.” He smirked as he teased her, tiptoeing his fingers up her leg and then curling them around her calf muscles drawing out more whimpers from her mouth. She looked even more beautiful than before and Jon was having an impossible time maintaining his restraint. Even if he wanted, his hand would be a piss poor substitute for the sweet core of his wife that he had become addicted to in the past few months.

“Not too long my King. Just two weeks. And you can blame the maester for it, he is the one who has confined me.” She wiggled her toes in his hands and felt a sudden tightening in her belly. Jon noticed her wince but she disregarded it as an aftereffect of their conversation.

Before she could slip into a dreamy state, Jon propped her feet and after kissing her once again, he sent for their supper. He fetched food, wine and water to their bed.

“What did you do all day my love?”

“I slept most of the time today and when I was awake, Lady Marya Seaworth dropped by several times to check on me. I am really grateful for her presence. She even helped me settle in the bed and instructed me to keep moving my feet and keep them at a height.” Jon hummed and reminded himself to thank Ser Davos properly once his babes were here. “Any new tomes you found for yourself?”

“No more books for me.” Dany laughed heartily and told him about her conversation with the ladies of the court. “The ladies told me that I will birth two maesters if I keep reading all day. They suggested I spend more time in the yards to give my lord husband warriors worthy of his sword.”

Jon shook his head and scoffed at their audacity. “They have some nerve telling the Queen who rides the fiercest beast of land and skies how to please her _lord_ _husband_.”

“And no, I don’t want you in the yards. I don’t want men ogling you any more than they may have done in my absence.” He pouted.

“Would you rather lock me here in the tower then?”

“Lock you? I dare not!” They both chuckled as they supped on a simple meal of hot bone-broth and warm bread. “Just looking out for the ladies of Westeros. Gods help them, no man can see such beauty and remain true to their own vows.”

“Jon!” she chastised him scandalously. “And what about those ladies and maidens who gawk from the sidelines when you spar every morning? Some of them trail you when you go from Great Hall to Sea Dragon Tower every day.” She furrowed her brows.

“You don’t know that.” Jon twitched his lips in dismissal.

“Well, I do. I count their steps sometimes from here. I may send Drogon to escort you on the morrow.” She watched him from the corners of her eyes.

 He laughed it away. “You really think I can ever have an eye for another?”

“No, I do not think so. But a wife can be jealous when her husband is the Warrior incarnate and the most handsome man in all realms.” She dipped her bread in the broth and licked her thumb. She enjoyed eating with her hands. Jon only blushed at her words as she eyed him.

"Did the lords give you a difficult time?”

Jon grunted. “They could do worse.” He tried to dull his displeasure and his fears about the war that is coming to them.

Dany asked him to walk with her after they had supped.

“Did my babes trouble you today?” He asked as they stepped out of their solar and into the airy corridors of the royal tower.

“No, not much. The maester says they may arrive any day now. They are ready to find their father’s strong arms.” Dany leaned on him and curled her arm around his.

“And their mother’s strong arms and her loving embrace too. They will be lucky to have you Dany. They will be the most loved and the most protected children in all realms.” He kissed her crown and they walked in the cold air of night. He may not admit it, but somewhere in his heart he was grateful for the might of armies and dragons on their back. It offered him some comfort when he woke up startled from his nightmares.

“What are you thinking my love?” He asked her when she went silent.

“I can’t even see my feet when I stand. And they are ugly and swollen.”

It made him laugh. He suddenly halted and turned to look at her face and realized that she was nearly in tears. She had been weepy and on the edge for some time now. He regretted leaving her alone for so long even though the maester told him that it was common in her condition. And then there was a constant fear of the misfortune that had befallen her once. She did not say it to him but he knew that it had never escaped her mind. He had seen her sitting silently with her hand around her babes and a forlorn look in her eyes. That is why he considered these small moments with her as the best and most well spent times of his day.

He cleared his throat. “Your feet are beautiful my love, just as the rest of you. Imagine how much running around you will have to do with two children. It is alright to give them some rest now.” He hoped that the dream of a future worthy of her after everything she had gone through would put her mind to ease. His own life was far from ideal but he had not suffered misfortune such as hers. Losing his life was a bliss when he compared it to losing a babe. He shuddered in fear at the thought.

“Jon, you think I will be around to see them grow?”

He swallowed. “If not you, then who else can? You will defeat everything in your path, twice over, to make sure you watch them grow and then our grandchildren and if gods will it, their children too. You also have to give them more brothers and sisters, don’t you?” He smiled mischievously.

It put her mind to some ease and she asked Jon to take her inside. “I cannot stand on my two feet anymore.”

When they returned, the leftovers had been cleared and they had their chambers to themselves. Daenerys patted the space next to her and Jon sat down by her side. She made him turn and massaged out the tense knots from his back with her thumbs the way she knew he always found comforting after a long, stressful day.

"Shouldn’t I be the one doing this for you?” Jon stressed.

“Let me. You do it for me every day.” She leaned into his back to kiss the his nape and immediately moved away from his touch remembering his torment.

Jon turned around and latched his lips to hers. “I am a man, and I need you, I always will. But I love you beyond my needs. Never turn away from me like this.” he whispered between her parted lips. Daenerys kissed him again and curled herself in his firm muscles, feeling loved and protected the way she had never felt in her entire life.

 


	24. New Beginnings

Daenerys woke up in the middle of the night with an uncomfortable tightening in her stomach. Throwing the blankets away, she swung her legs down the bed and walked out into the antechambers. Jon had ensured the fires in the hearth were always lit. She stretched her back, rubbing the sides of her belly hoping it would soothe her babes and ease them. It was not the usual kicking in her ribs and her organs, it was different. Her eyes widened and her mouth was agape. _I remember this feeling._

‘Jon’ a whimper came out of her lips and she became too weak in her knees to return to her bed and wake him. Minutes passed before she heard his anxious voice, “Dany, Dany..”

“Out here, my love” she gathered all her courage before speaking.

Jon rushed out carrying her furs in his hands and swiftly draped her in them. “What happened? Why are you here? Why didn’t you wake me up?” He breathlessly asked one question after the other without waiting for her response. She caught his arm and leaning into his chest, she meekly asked him to send for the Maester.

“Stay here, I’ll return in a moment.” He rested her against the spare bed in the antechamber and swiftly left for the door.

She exclaimed in fear, “Don’t leave me!”

Jon turned and swiftly returned by her side. His voice echoed in the silence of the night and the guards and servants rushed in haste to find the midwives, maesters and Ser Davos. He put his strong arms around her and waited.

“Tell me what to do? Do I rub your back, your feet?" Jon tried to keep his calm.

"No. I don’t know really. Everything just -- hurts.” She did not want to rethink what had happened the last time and neither did he. Soon enough everyone arrived and the Maesters instructed that the queen be carried to the adjacent birthing chambers they had prepared for this day.

Jon heard her mumbling a few incoherent words as he left her in the birthing chambers and waited outside while the midwives and her ladies attended to her. 

He stood in silence, praying to the old gods and any gods who will answer his prayers. “Please don’t take her from me. Give her the happiness she deserves” Was all he could think in that moment.

He sighed in frustration when Ser Davos placed his hand over Jon’s shoulder. “Ser, why won’t they allow me inside?” To which Davos replied, “It is a woman’s business my King. Men have no place there.”

Ser Barristan had not known what if felt to have a real family. The kings he had served and especially Jon and Daenerys were the only family he had known for so many years and he was aware of their affections more than any other person around them. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I beg your pardon, your grace. You don’t need anyone’s permission to be anywhere you wanted. Unless it’s the free cities. Even then, anyone will think twice before stopping you.” He did not look at Jon afterwards.

Jon nodded, squared his shoulders and walked inside the birthing chambers. Something about his demeanour warned the attendants not to question him.

“Jon!” her voice broke and tears fell from her eyes on seeing him.

“Your Grace?” The maester looked at Jon curiously.

“I am here and I will be here for as long as it takes for my wife to hold her babes in her arms. If anyone has any issues with it, they may leave now.” He did not scream or command, there was enough iron in his voice to silence everyone on the island. A small smile graced Dany’s parched lips as Jon sat beside her and pulled her in his arms. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“You are here now.” It was as if vigour had renewed in her body and color returned to her cheeks.

His wife was near naked but for an oversized shift hanging from her shoulders but she held as much grace as she did in the best of silks. She leaned into him and grabbed his hand as tight as she could when a wave of pain washed over her. It never went away fully and the pains kept returning.

“Don’t hold your scream child, let it out. It will take away some of your pain too.” Lady Marya spoke kindly as she pressed a cup of honeyed-water onto her lips. Jon watched how she fed Dany and then took the cup in his own hands. “Give it to me my lady, I’ll do it."

Dany grew weary of the pains and slumped into the pillows around her back. Another unbearable pain snapped her out of her state of dizziness and she cried out, gasping for breath. The pains came and went in waves draining her strength from her.

“Dany,” his concerned voice rumbled as she went still.  “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know -- it hurts so much.”

The midwife interrupted, “Your Grace, I want to check and see how fares the babes.”

Jon held Dany’s hand and averted his eyes. The midwife nodded in understanding and went about her job. “Her Grace is doing well so far. The second birth is always easier.” Jon felt uncomfortable with her words but did not show it.

When he looked at Dany, he could see his own unease reflected in her eyes. He smiled for her and possessively placed his hand above her womb. “It’s alright my love, I am here with you.”

Dany returned his smile with a small one of her own and gently squeezed his hand in understanding.

“Toss some more logs in the hearth, the room is getting cold.” Jon commanded, looking at the helpers.

“Your Grace, it could be hours before your heirs arrive, you could rest if you like.” One of the many maesters attending the Queen suggested.

Jon looked at Dany. “There’s nowhere else I rather be.” All his smiles were only for her.

“Can she eat or sleep?” Jon asked them.

The maesters were hesitant to respond but the midwife became more confident in his presence and stepped forward. “Our queen can do whatever makes her comfortable and pleases her. She may walk around if that is what she wants. She should drink and eat to keep her strength up. We are not done yet and this may only be the beginning.”

Jon could see the scowl on some of the maesters’ faces but finally maester Ebrose spoke up. “It is rather common for women of low birth to do as the lady suggests, your grace.” Jon could feel the contempt in his words but left the reprimand for another time.

“Are you saying you disapprove, maester?” Jon asked him.

“Umm, no, Your Grace. It might rather suit her grace’s small built to be as comfortable as she can.” He finally said and Jon curtly nodded at him.

“I cannot lie down. Take me near the hearth.” Dany said immediately.

Jon carried her in his arms but she asked him to set her down.

“But you could not walk Dany, are you sure you want that?”

She puckered her brows as another pain hit her and then breathed her way through it. “I don’t know. I want to try.”

The Maester made everyone leave and informed them that they are right outside the door, in the antechamber, waiting for them, should they require help. “I shall return and check on her Grace’s progress.”

Dany stood by the hearth, her back resting on Jon’s strong body. He was truly her rock in more ways than one, she told him. He only smiled. She rode out every pain by leaning into him as he circled his arms around her as tightly or as lightly as she asked of him.

There was not much to do except getting drowned in the miseries of the past or look to an uncertain future. Jon broke the eerie silence between them. “Remember these chambers Dany?”

She smiled, “I do, these were mine and now they will be our children’s.”

“Aye, have I thanked you for offering me to stay?”

“You did, many times over.” She smiled at him. First shyly and then slyly. And he shifted, “Don’t do that, what would the Maester think about the king he serves.”

“I think given the queen’s state, there’s not much left to anyone’s imagination. Isn’t it, Jon?” She playfully pressed her back against his front.

“Ah, do not put ideas in my head Dany. You will have a tough time once you have recovered.”

She would have laughed and melted in the heat of his words if another shooting pain had not nearly ripped her back in two. He felt her body stiffen, and once again, she left her weight on him squeezed his hand and breathed through the pain.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. I want to remember what I did the last time. But I cannot. I have no awareness what to do.” She felt dejected and helpless.

Jon kissed her with a familiarity, like he always did when he wanted to express his love but did not know what to say. “Ours will be the first child I will get to hold right after they are born. I remember my lord father used to sit outside and pray to the old gods whenever lady Catelyn gave birth. It used to be days before I saw my brothers and sisters.” He stopped her from taking pity on him by placing his fingers on her lips. “I don’t regret any of it today. I’m glad for everything that has happened. It brought us together, and that’s something, isn’t it?”

“It is.” She smiled and Jon offered her honeyed water to sip. “Jon, thank you. For staying, for accepting Visenya’s chambers when you could have claimed Aegon’s, for telling the maester to bugger off, for being here, and most of all, for this.” She placed his hand above her womb. Jon nuzzled her like a wolf. “I don’t know about anything else, but _this_ was absolutely my pleasure.” He heard a chuckle and felt a slight blow of her elbow in his ribs when he finished.

The pains were approaching sooner now and Dany leaned into Jon every time a sharp pain took her.

Dany took his hand and walked the room, always returning to sit near the hearth, reminding herself that fire is her companion, her essence, and it will never let any harm come to her and her babes. Her real fire was Jon, she knew.

As the pains worsened, Dany went quiet and irritable. She sometimes pushed Jon away and at other times held him tight and cried in his chest. She was beginning to think that the maesters and midwife were relieved by Jon’s presence for they smiled vibrantly before going back to the antechamber.

She felt pangs of guilt for Jon but they faded as soon as pains returned. One time, she asked him to press his palms in the small of her back, the next time she chided him from touching her. Jon was confused at first but then he smiled and accepted it for what it was. “I can never do what you are doing, so I’ll take all the scoldings you have for me.” He japed in her ears as he kissed her.

“Do you want to lie down, love?” he asked when he felt her grip on his hands loosen and he could see her strength fading.

“Yes. Also, I think we should call help now.” Something fluttered in Jon’s stomach. _I’ll be a father before this day ends._ For the first time, his chest was filled with hope.

When Jon was about to summon the waiting healers, a puddle of water formed around her legs, soaking his own trousers and boots. Jon looked at her in bewilderment. “Its my water.” She nearly cried.

Jon went still, not knowing what to feel, if it was normal or was Dany in danger, or if his babes were in distress, he truly knew nothing.

“Jon, get them here. I need you, we need you.” Dany panted as she recognized that look on her husband’s face.

The maesters and the midwife rushed in as fast as they could. “You need to lie down, your grace. It is time.” They told her.

Jon scooped her in his arms, unmindful of the damp clothes and her protests. “Quite now, you have walked enough.” He didn’t meet her gaze when she stared at him, so close to his face. If no one was around, he could kiss her and make it right. He was grateful that no one sniggered, although he did notice some smiles from the corners of his eyes.

Jon was wrong when he thought the worse was over. Her sharp, pitiful cries were as bad as any he had heard on the battlefield. Wars were easier than what his mind was going through and he was helpless in a way he had never been all his life.

“Jon” with that she began feeling dizzy and her eyes were beginning to close. “Her Grace has to be awake for this part! The babes will..” the maester panicked and a sharp glare from Jon ensured he did not finish his sentence. _Bloody hells, what would you have done to her if I was not around._ He was half his mind to send them all to the darkest dungeons.

Lady Marya cleaned her forehead with a damp cloth and whispered something in Jon’s ears and he nodded. He inhaled deeply and raised Dany from the pillow and sat behind her on the bed, settling her between his legs.

He smoothed out all distress from his voice and spoke calmly, only for her ears, “We are there Dany, don’t you want to hold your babes in your arms now?” When she nodded, he reminded her of her strength and all the dreams they had spun in their waking moments, of the bright smiles of her children, their wonderment about the color of their eyes and hair, he reminded her everything else only she could have known.

She smiled and then tightly squeezed his hand one more time. This time, she waded the pain by pushing. No one told her that, it was instinctive. It received a sigh of relief from everyone.

Dany finally sat up and on maester’s recommendation Jon pulled her shift above her head and flung it aside. Despite the cold, her skin was hot to touch. She paled and struggled through few more unforgiving tightenings to her womb when the midwife finally announced that she could see the top of head of the prince or the princess.

“Gods, please. I cannot take it anymore." Dany cried out.

"Don’t stop now your grace,” the midwife said. Dany pushed again and again until she couldn’t.

“Any moment now, the head is out.” the midwife announced and both Jon and Dany curiously looked between her legs. It brought a small smile to Dany’s face before a tearing pain stretched her insides and tears began falling from her eyes.

Her husband’s strong arms were holding her up when all instincts inside her were telling her to let go and let a perpetual sleep take her over. “Dany” Jon’s words snapped her out of the dark abyss and she took a deep breath before pushing with everything she had.

He kissed her hair and kept combing them with his knuckles whispering encouraging and loving words in her ears. A loud cry filled the chambers and she gasped and fell into Jon’s arms. They both were too afraid to ask anything. Dany’s eyes were closed and her hand was holding his shirt tightly in her grip. All Jon could see was a squalling mass of red and white and the maesters around it.

He did not know what was happening before long the midwife asked Dany to wake up and push one more time. Jon could feel her bulge descend low and a sharp, tightening was visible even through the thin skin of her belly that almost looked like a rock.

Dany gathered the last remnants of her strength and this time, the babe slipped out of her birthing canal with much less torment.

The air was once again filled with the sounds of a babe’s cry.

Both Jon and Dany were too shocked to speak. They looked between the midwife and the maesters in worry. The midwife spoke first, “To this old woman’s eyes, your daughter and son are as perfect as gods could make them. Let the learned men do their task.” With that, Dany wept in relief as a maester examined her, and other women cleaned between her legs and began wiping down her body and covering her in soft robes.

“Thank you. I shall always remember your kindness, my lady. Ask me anything and it will be yours.” Jon allowed himself to look vulnerable in front of the woman who had helped them in the most crucial hours of their lives. He would give her the seven kingdoms if the woman asked.

The maesters returned with beaming smiles and two bundles of joy in their outstretched hands.

“Your first born is a princess, your grace.”

“And this is your son, the prince.”

Daenerys wiped her tears and waited with a baited breath to see the look on Jon’s face. His eyes were fixed on his children and Dany had to nudge his arm to break him out of trance. “My King, your daughter and your son.” Jon gulped and looked at her as if seeking her approval before holding them. She curved her brows, “Blood of your blood, Jon.” Jon took his daughter in his trembling arms and the maester placed their son in Dany’s. Jon gazed between his children with so many questions in his eyes and a look of sheer bliss on his face.

“Wait outside.” Was all he could manage to blurt before his voice cracked, and the chambers were theirs. The new parents wept in joy as they kissed and mumbled ‘sweetlings’, ‘precious’, ‘our life’, ‘love’ and everything they had been holding inside for past nine months to say to their children.

“Daenerys, thank you.” With that he pulled her tightly to him. All four of them huddled like a flock of birds in their nest on a rainy evening. Jon was complete in a way he had never imagined he could ever be. For Dany, it was an impossible dream come true and she did not know how she could ever thank him for it. She just leaned into his chest and sobbed.

“I’m glad they have your silver hair. They’re the most beautiful children I have ever seen Dany, I cannot believe we made them.” He whispered joyously as they cooed in their arms.

“Well, you should believe. Look at their eyes. They’re all us. You and me.” When she looked at her family, one that was truly hers, Dany knew that there cannot be a more beautiful sight and she thanked the gods of her good-mother for it.

“Aye, they are. I have never been so happy in my life Dany. I think my heart will stop beating.” He agreed, cheer bursting through his heart.

*

“Ser Davos, Ser Barristan, Lady Seaworth” Jon acknowledged as he stood beside Daenerys with his hand gently placed on her shoulder. They were back in their chambers and their children blissfully slept next to their mother.

“Do we have names for the Prince and the Princess, your grace?” The queensguard kindly asked.

“My daughter’s name is Naerys Targaryen. For the most beautiful and the most formidable woman this world has known.” Jon proudly looked at his wife. “And my son will be known as Aenar Targaryen.”

Ser Barristan looked at Jon with inquisitive eyes.

Jon smiled. “I know what you are thinking and not saying, Ser. Aenar, for the wise one who survived the doom. Sometimes it is best we learn from our past and go back to the beginnings.”

“You are just like _him_ , your grace.” Ser Barristan smiled, a touch of sadness gracing his eyes.

Dany looked at her husband and pressed her hand on his. Jon felt a tightening in his chest which soon went away when he looked between the silver hair of his children and the lilac eyes of his wife. _He lives, and so will I._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you give it enough time, the name grows on you. Believe me !


	25. Geros ilas (Farewell)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany leave Naerys and Aenar at Dragonstone to go fight the impending darkness.

**Geros ilas (Farewell)**

A raven arrived from Winterfell and Jon knew it was time. Daenerys did not require any words to remind her of the coming darkness and what they must do. She lowered Aenar in his crib and took Jon’s hand in hers.

She wasn’t the same woman whom he had watched many a night leaving the warmth of their bed just so she can pick up their sleeping babes from their cribs and hold them to her chest. The same woman whom he had to pick-up from the cold stone floors of their chamber after she had entrusted the babes to a wet nurse to wean them off her milk.

She wasn’t the mother who had wanted to send their children into hiding so that they can be safe should she and Jon not come out of this war alive. “We will defeat the darkness, Dany. We haven’t come this far to lose everything.” He had said. But she knew it as well as any that winning the Great War didn’t mean they both could not perish in the war and never be able to see their children’s beautiful faces again.

She wasn’t the same woman whose eyes had turned as wide as the moon when she remembered how she and Viserys had to escape home for survival. Jon had to physically shake her out of that horrifying memory. “Aenar is no Viserys, Dany.” He didn’t need to pretend. He believed it and she saw that in his eyes.

She was the mother who had alleviated his fears by tightening her grip around his wrist and told him that if any harm came to her children in their absence, they must pray that winter takes this world. Else, fire and blood will. Her eyes had brimmed with fire in that moment. Her resolve was steadfast; she would do anything, move mountains if that is what it took to keep her family safe.

“We’ve discussed this Jon, we’re prepared. Let us do our duty.” The Queen spoke, taking the parchment from his hand.

It would have been easier if she had raged and fought, said that she didn’t want to leave her children behind, that she would NOT leave their children at the mercy of others. But they had already spent many a night arguing what they wanted for them. They had decided to leave behind their words in a letter to the twins.

They wanted their children to follow their heart, but they knew better. So, they left them with a knowledge of their identity and that they would be proud of them even if they chose to forgo the path of their ancestors and choose their own destiny. 

They began with their journey and how they found each other. They wrote many more things. Words of fear and hopelessness weren’t written. Their life story could be the one for heroes but in truth, they had grown up without a sense of belonging. One searching for his identify and one searching for her home. Their own fates had been sealed even before they took their first breath. It was only natural they wanted their children to live life of their own volition. “Or as much as we can offer.” Dany sighed.

 _You have greatness in your blood. You’re the blood of kings, dragons and direwolves are your companions._ Jon reminded them.

 _You have nothing to prove to anyone. You’re our children and a blessing of the Gods. You were answer to our prayers, you brought us hope in the darkest hour of humanity, we smile because we hold you in our arms._ Daenerys added with a mother’s loving heart.

 _Should you choose to lead some day, know your people, know the men you lead. You’re not above them, be a part of them. If you hope to rule, learn to listen. Become worthy of the power you wield._ Those were Jon’s words. Regardless, they both had lived by those words.

_There is no shame in learning from those who may appear beneath you. You can learn from the most broken looking man or from a bastard boy or a meek girl who has always been on run all her childhood. Respect them all. Respect them and, in turn you will honour us._

Daenerys bit her cheek when Jon wrote, _Find yourself a good woman, Aenar. Someone who will love you beyond the name you carry and see the goodness inside your heart._

Daenerys had laughed through tears when Jon winced on reading, _Home is where you make it, Naerys. It’s where you will find the love of a honorable man and see your own babes grow._ “Aye, my dear husband, she will be a woman grown one day and a man worthy of her will make an honest woman out of her and she will feel blessed to bear him children.”

He didn’t believe anyone could be worthy of his Naerys. “Not for a very very long time. And remind me to instruct Ser Barristan to pay more attention to her training.”

“You won’t need reminding. And it won’t be Barristan who will train her. She is the daughter of the best swordsman the world has seen, and her father shall be her maester-at-arms.” She held her sadness back and pulled him in a searing kiss.

 _We leave because we have to fight for you and many other babes just like you. We shall fight for you to live, see your own children and grand-children some day. Some of them may even look like us. You have my hair._ Daenerys wrote. _And my eyes._ Jon inked.

The words that were smudged when they soaked the parchment with tears, they rewrote those.

Many a line drawn across words, a reminder that they didn’t have to agree on everything to be in love. Love didn’t make them similar, it just made them appreciate the differences and respect each other all the same. “We’re different. Let them know that truth too. They would’ve known it if we raised them, isn’t it? How is this any different?” Jon asked.

“We _will_ raise them.” Was all she could say.

_You father is a great man, the best humanity has to offer. He is kind and noble. He is fierce and brave. He is judicious and fair._

“You have the most beautiful smile, Jon.” She set the quill down and caressed his cheek with her fingers. She kissed the corner of his lips just to see them curl up.

“Do I now?” He smiled. Another fetching smile that had swept her like a shell in the sea.

“Don’t you know, Jon?” she teased, splaying her fingers on the table letting him see the wedding ring she proudly wore.

“I’ve known your love, many times over. Honestly, that's all I ever needed to know.” He kissed her, blood running hot in their veins. “Dany” he whispered against her hair; she always smelled like jasmines, she smelled like _home_. “Jon” she whispered back, her eyes closed, and when she inhaled, he smelled like the pine in the Aegon’s Garden, like the morning dew, like her home, her one and only home.

_Whether we survive or not, the stand humanity will make on the day of reckoning, its him we will owe._

“It’s not true, Dany. I could not have done any of it without you.” He protested.

_We’re leaving behind your family heirloom. One ring belongs to your mother’s mother and the other is my father’s. Regard them as the blessings of many generations of your ancestors. Nothing more and nothing less._

Jon denied her when Dany stared at the ring that was her gift, the only piece of jewellery he had ever given. "I am a selfish man, Dany. I want _you_ to keep it, to always remember me, to remember that I stood by you till the end. And should we prevail over this darkness, I shall always stand by you."

Daenerys clutched his tunic and sobbed in his chest for a long time.

_Respect Ser Barristan and Ser Davos, learn from them both. Turn to them for advice. They have led a long life and are bearers of knowledge of the world. Should you like to know more about us, your aunt Arya can tell you all about me and aunt Missandei is like a sister to your mother, treat her as such, and ask her all that is to know about your mother._

“No one knows me like you do.”

“Aye, I hope to come back with you and answer all their questions. But we have to do _this_. Isn’t it?”

They wrote many other words for them and in the end hoped that those weren't their last words for their children.

“It’s time, Dany. I’ll send for Ser Barristan.”

Dany spoke first when he arrived. “Ser Barristan, these are the documents of succession and their facsimiles have already been sent to the Iron Bank and the Citadel.”

“It’s not needed, Your Grace. Gods be good, you both shall return triumphant.”

“We know Ser. Be we also know that it’s a war.” No other words needed to be spoken to remind the old knight what was at stake. “We have named a council to rule until Princess Naerys is old enough to ascend the throne and my good-sister, Lady Arya Stark will be the regent. The new council will assist in all matters pertaining to the kingdom, respectable nobles from all seven kingdoms, and representatives from the free-folk and the Dothraki. Viserion will remain here to over watch them.”

“Your Grace, pardon this old man’s audacity, shouldn’t Prince Aenar be your heir? There is a precedent set by King Jaehaerys I Targaryen.”

“Aye. That was decided by the Great Council. We have amended it. My wife is a queen in her own right and my child’s gender will not stand in the way of what is rightfully hers.” The King replied determinedly.

When Jon once again spoke with Ser Barristan, Dany stood in silence, praying to the Old Gods for her children's safekeeping. “And Ser, we are leaving a small fortune behind and approval of a loan should you need it in case..” ill-fated words left unsaid.

Barristan the Bold unsheathed his sword and knelt, reaffirming his oath, "I will not fail you both, Your Grace."

Jon and Daenerys held their children one last time and then walked away without turning back. They stood in silence at the Dragon's Lair and made a pledge before departing. “We’ll come back to them.”

“Aye.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've nearly finished writing the ending for this story and am excited to share it with you all. It would be a 20 year time-jump and then another 30 year time-jump.
> 
> I've decided to post this because I'm stuck and something is not allowing me to continue this story. Maybe the feedback will help in deciding what direction I must take or if it even makes sense to continue this. So, please don't forget to leave your thoughts. Good and bad BOTH, certainly not everyone will like the way I've written this one. 
> 
> Happy holidays everyone and Merry Christmas !!!


	26. Silver Queen and the White Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon & Dany arrive at Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story so far:
> 
> Jon traveled to Dragonstone to treat with the Dragon Queen. Rickon is the Lord of Winterfell.
> 
> Jon provided proof of his parentage to Dany (Marriage documents attested by Rhaegar's Kingsguard, a family heirloom - a ring that belonged to the Prince of Dragonstone, Lyanna's wedding ring) Ser Barristan verified the kingsguard' seal and signatures.
> 
> Jon and Dany fell in love, and after a long courtship period (really reaaaaally slow burn) got married and are now proud parents to the twins, Aenar & Naerys who are only 6 months old.
> 
> The children stayed at Dragonstone under the care of their trusted people and Viserion, and Jon and Dany flew north to wage war for the dawn.

**Silver Queen and the White Wolf**

  **Arrival**

The dragons circled the skies briefly and landed in a clearing outside the walls of Winterfell, away from the Wintertown. From there the King and the Queen of Westeros rode in with Ser Jorah - the castellan of Winterfell, the Commander of the Unsullied, and Daenerys’ Dothraki blood riders who had gathered there to escort them to the northern stronghold.

The Starks along with the Northern Lords and the Stark household knelt in the snow to welcome them to the North and their ancestral seat. “Winterfell is yours, Your Grace.” Said the Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell, Rickon Stark.

The reunion was dampened by the noticeable absence of the royal children. Despite having spent their ride to Winterfell somber and heartbroken at leaving their young children behind, Jon and Daenerys pushed their gloom deep down their hearts and offered a hopeful smile to all those gathered at Winterfell.

Daenerys looked around as if she was expecting to meet someone. She leaned closer to Jon and whispered, “Where’s Arya?”

“How, may I know, you think she’s not in the crowd?” A bemused Jon asked.

“I just know.”

“We’ll see her when she wants us to see her.” It was the only excuse Jon could offer. He understood Arya but wasn’t sure what Daenerys would make of her behavior. It was the first time she was visiting the north and although she was family, she was still the queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Jon himself introduced his cousins, whom he still called his _siblings_ , and the representatives of the northern Houses to the Queen.

The crowd separated and a breathless, young girl ran towards them, straight into Jon’s arms, almost throwing him off balance. Daenerys watched the reunion with an affectionate smile on her lips.

The girl looked so much like Jon, Daenerys thought and then asked expectantly, only half unsure, “Lady Arya Stark?”

A smile beamed through everyone’s face as Arya dropped in an awkward curtsy, “Your Grace”

Arya looked straight into her eyes and Daenerys held her gaze a moment longer than she had wanted to, her mind seemingly wandered off to a distant place.

“This way, Your Grace” Sansa interrupted and gestured in a honeyed voice, throwing a disapproving look behind her shoulder at Arya for being late.

“You’re Jon’s sister, please call me Daenerys.” She suggested, her fingers gently brushing against Sansa’s as they walked inside the castle. Sansa nodded with warmth; no longer feeling the need to repress her smile. She was not the scarred woman anymore. She was in her home, amongst her loved ones and her family, and Daenerys was her family too through marriage.

Jon and Arya walked behind them, followed by the court

“My apologies, brother. I was at the broken tower, watching the dragons and lost track of time.” Arya looked at her brother with the widest grin she had on her lips in a long time.

“It’s alright, Arya. Where’s Ghost?” Jon asked, walking towards the Hall, a loving arm around his little sister’s shoulder.

“He’s out hunting, I suppose. He misses you.”

“Aye, I miss him too.”

Jon turned around to instruct the Unsullied in Valyrian and when he looked at Arya, she was watching him with an amused smile.

“What is it?”

“You speak Valyrian fluently, I have to admit.”

Jon chuckled, “I can’t say I’m fluent, but I had to learn Dothraki when the Dothraki refused to learn the common tongue and later, I willingly did the same for the Unsullied.” _And mostly for Dany,_ he thought. He couldn’t help himself from smiling. “Daenerys sings lullabies in Valyrian because she doesn’t know any in the common tongue. She even talks to Naerys and Aenar in Valyrian, giving me all the more reasons to learn it, should they exclude me from their inner coverings.”

He grinned at first and then went very quiet for a moment. “..I meant, she used to when we were with them..” he admitted heartbrokenly. Jon shook his head and a sharp pang of agony jabbed him in his old wounds. He was missing his children and longed to see them both more than anything in the world.

Arya always understood him more than any of his other siblings, more than anyone really until Daenerys came along. She wanted to alleviate his plight, so she smiled and pressed his hand. “Tell me more about my niece and nephew! Who do they take after? Do they walk? What do they call you? Can they talk? Do they know me? I think they should call me _Ser_ Arya and not Aunt! Otherwise, they won’t fear me like you boys feared Ser Rodrik, isn’t it?” She quizzed breathlessly, one restless question after the other as Jon and Arya trailed behind Sansa and Dany.

 

**The Crypts**

 

In the crypts, Jon watched silently as Daenerys stretched on her toes and placed a small crown of winter roses weaved between the red ones that she had brought from Dragonstone, above Lyanna’s hand. The roses were untarnished by their long journey. _Winter preserves as much as it destroys._

Tears prickled her eyes when Daenerys thought of Rhaegar leaving Lyanna behind as Jon grew in her belly, she wondered how Lyanna must have felt when life slipped away from her fingers, knowing she was leaving her heart and soul behind _._ Tears fell unbidden from her eyes when Jon curled his fingers around her shoulder and kissed the top of her hair. At the moment she could only offer her the sole comfort of knowing that she cared deeply for her son. _I love him, I always will. I shall protect him with my life if need be and I shall endeavor to be a good mother to his children, your grandchildren._ Daenerys made an unspoken promise to Lyanna.

 

**Welcome Feast**

 

“Daenerys, I’ll see you in some time” Jon whispered in her ear as they were seated in the Hall and food and ale were being served. He gestured towards Ser Jorah to stay near the Queen and was out of the door before she could ask him anything. Thinking that it would be discourteous if she left too, she stayed.

Barely some time had passed when the hall fell silent. A large, albino direwolf silently stood at the doorway of the Great Hall. He watched Daenerys with familiarity and let out a low, humming howl when she stood up and turned to walk towards him. _He was a silent one and rarely made a sound,_ she knew. Alarmed by its presence, Ser Jorah’s hand went to his sword but Daenerys immediately stayed his arm. She heard Arya sheath her sword at that and smiled at the thought of the bond between Targaryens and their dragons and the Starks and their direwolves. It was unfathomable for outsiders that the man and the beast were one in those two families. They _were_ family.

Instructing Ser Jorah to stand back, she walked towards the ghost and silently followed him as he turned around and left through the hallway. Arya walking a step behind her.

“Where’s he taking me?” She asked Arya, waiting for her to walk beside her.

Arya smiled mysteriously. “You’ll find out soon.”

“I’ll tell Sansa you’d be late. But try not to take too long, you don’t want to vex my sister now, do you?” She said before leaving Dany at the gates of the Godswood.

“Of course not.” Daenerys smiled brightly and shook her head at the same time. “I’m your sister too. You know ... if you would like to call me by my name.”

“I know. Arya’s lips curved in a childlike smile and the sight made Daenerys’ heart ache. Her breath got caught in her chest and her face fell.

Arya noticed it but without saying a word, she decided to walk away.

Daenerys called out for her. “Arya .. wait… I’m sorry..”

She turned back to face the Queen, and in a passive, emotionless voice she retorted, “It’s alright, I’m not a lady. I know it is not easy to like someone like me.”

Arya still remembered how she feared her lady mother would react if she ever found out the things she had done to stay alive, how her own sister by blood disapproved some of her actions. _Why would the Queen be any different?_   She wondered.

Taking in Arya’s pained look, Daenerys grabbed her wrist. “Arya, what do you mean _someone like you ?_ Do you mean someone who’s brave and fearless, loving to a fault, values family above all, someone as honorable as the man I love, and someone whose smile and grey eyes are a reflection of my children’s?” Daenerys’ fingers cautiously reached for her cheeks and lovingly touching her comely face she asked, “Tell me, how can I not love you, Lady Arya Stark?”

Seeing the honesty on Daenerys’ face, Arya’s expression softened. “Arya, I apologize if I hurt you. It’s just that you remind me so much of _them_ , it was heartbreaking for me. You should know that I love you as much as Jon does and if something were to happen to Jon and me, there’s no one else we trust our children with more than you.”

Her words surprised Arya. She had heard so much about Daenerys Targaryen, the Dragon Queen that it was unfathomable to think of her just as a mother who was missing her children. “There’s nothing to forgive, _Daenerys_.” Arya circled her arms around her shoulders, and they stood hugging each other for a long time.

“Now I know why my brother loves you so much. Go, he must be waiting.” Arya chuckled breaking away from Daenerys’ embrace.

 

**Godswood**

 

She was alone with the direwolf, feeling lost at the edge of the Godswood. Turning to her escort and companion, she smiled and spoke in a motherly manner, the way she used to talk with her Dragons when they were no bigger than horses and even now sometimes. “I’m Daenerys Targaryen. _His_ wife." She said in a mirthful voice as if it were a great secret she was sharing with him and Ghost nodded in acquiescence. "I’m sorry it took me so long to meet you.” Ghost was as tall as Daenerys and its blood red eyes red were full of wisdom and rare knowledge. For a moment, she felt as if it was looking into her soul with a sense of familiarity, reminding her of the howl of the wolf that had stayed with her in memories.

Daenerys was clad in white; white breeches tucked into soft boots of bleached leather, white ermine cloak, lined with the Targaryen red and long, white thick velvet and fur coat and bleached moleskin gloves. Her cheeks were flushed red and her eyes were bright lilac. Jon did not remember ever having seen a more beautiful sight in the North.

“I see that you have stolen my wolf.” She heard Jon say as she walked towards him.

“I did not such thing. He chose me.” She said, smiling playfully.

He cleared the space next to him and patted it for her to sit. Jon drew her in the warmth of his body, and she leaned into his shoulder silently cherishing each other’s presence.

“Lord Stark always sat here when he wanted to find some peace. I always wondered what prayers he sent to the Gods and if they came to be true.” When Daenerys placed her hand on his chest and looked up at his solemn face, he shook his head, “I don’t think his prayers were answered...”

Daenerys took his hand in hers, bringing it to her lips she kissed it and then spoke softly, “How do you know that? Your sisters are safe and alive, your brothers too. We have to believe that the Gods exist and would watch over our loved ones and answer our prayers. What’s life without hope, Jon?”

He nodded and kissed her crown, pulling her closer to his chest with both hands.

“We should go back.” Jon broke the silence, idly caressing her hair.

“A minute longer.” She sighed and slumped further into his arms. From a distance, they were too close to tell where one ended and the other began.

 

_**A week later..** _

 

Daenerys had immersed herself in work since the day they had stepped foot inside Winterfell. He almost felt he had lost her attention and despite his initial apprehensions she had seamlessly blended with the Stark household and the northern lords. _She was a queen of the people,_ Jon knew. The one who molded herself with the peoples of the free cities, the Dothraki, the erstwhile Slavers’ Bay, the southerner Westerosi and now the northerners. _She could steal anyone’s heart if she wanted._ The thought made him possessive but he kept it to himself. She would always be loved everywhere she went, and he rather harped on the pride in that than the selfishness of wanting her only for himself.

Jon sat in the bed, going over their plans. “I think you’re right about the evacuation. The efforts need to be paced. We must visit the holdfasts to convince people who are refusing to leave. Those incapable of fighting or the very least defending themselves should move below the Neck as swiftly as they can.”

When he didn’t receive a response, he glanced at Daenerys sitting at the bureau, fussing over her hair.

He fell silent as she stood up and walked towards him. Her state of dishabille made him swallow and he felt his groins ache with urge and heaviness. Taking the parchments away from his hands, she climbed on the bed and moved the hem of her sheer nightgown above her knees, straddling his legs in between hers.

“Dany, you don’t have to.. ” Jon blurted unconvincingly, unable to cease his hands from gently exploring the sides of her thighs, moving up the dip of her waist and reaching the curve of her breast. His eyes turned darker and his chest rumbled as his thumb brushed over the tips of her breasts, making her exhale a moan of pleasure.

“I know. But I want to. Make me feel alive the way only you can, Jon” With that, she bent on her husband and moved to undo the lacings of his breeches, her lips kissing his', his neck, the muscle of his shoulder that peeked from underneath his shirt.

Jon pulled back slightly and took her in eyes, his gaze lovingly roving over her skin, staying a little longer when he reached the silver lines above her womb. She let out a muffled laugh that quickly turned into a sigh, twisted by the rush of memories from not too long ago when she had carried two lives inside her. As if he were thinking the same, Jon spoke first. “Someday I would like Aenar and Naerys to have more siblings” he then paused to meet her gaze.

Swallowing a knot in her throat, she nodded with a bashful smile beaming through her eyes “As many you want …after we’ve won this war.”

“After we’ve won this war” he agreed and then his fingers were in her hair, carded and twisted with her silver strands as if they had found the only place they were meant to be. They kissed each other with practiced dexterity of hundreds of lifetimes and her hands ventured into the little space that was left between their bodies, tugging the laces of his shirt and pushing it down his shoulders, stroking the scars on his body. She hurriedly took his length and lowered herself on it. The pleasantness of the sweet ache that he always gave her as he filled her and stretched her core, the sharpness of his teeth against the soft skin of her bosom and the tug of his fingers in her hair made her forget the perils that awaited them. She craved him and he, her. She wanted more and he bestowed everything he could, suckling her breasts until they were raw and wet with his saliva, his callused finger traced her ribs and then firmly curved under the soft skin of her behind, his shaft thick and heavy, filling her completely and satiating her from within. She was biting her lips to keep herself from screaming with pleasure and with her eyes closed, she was back on Dragonstone - in her husband’s arms, her children sleeping next door with no thoughts of the undead sullying her happiness.

And all of a sudden, she was back, her family scattered, the darkness creeping around her until she gasped out a sob and then tears began rolling down her eyes. Jon paused and drew her into his body and her head was in the crook of his shoulder as she sobbed between his hair. “Look at me, my love. Look at me.” He steadied her, lifted her chin and kissed her tears away.

 _“Jon”_ she cried and begged with an impatient need. She whined and moaned, desperately hoping he understood what she wanted; her husband was nothing if not perceptive.

“I got you, Daenerys.” He whispered hoarsely, only for her ears, and effortlessly rolled her underneath him as she let out a desperate sigh and cried out his name, tightly wrapping her legs around his back and arms around his neck.

*-*-*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d truly appreciate if you left comments/suggestions on the story. It motivates me into writing and also, it gives me some idea as to readers’ interest or lack thereof in the story. There’s no point writing if no one wants to read a story. :)
> 
> There will always be grammar & language issues with my writing because literature wasn't my major and English ain't my mother tongue. I only write for enjoyment and out of love for my fellow Jonerys shippers.


	27. Son of Winterfell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding at Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if this could trigger anyone, but pl do read the updated tags for this chapter. 
> 
> #aged up Rickon Stark  
> #Meera is younger than her book counterpart  
> #she is still older than Rickon  
> #Rarepair  
> #Rickon Stark/Meera Reed - Freeform  
> #Rickon/Meera chapter 27 only

He was a sight to behold, her King. Standing on a vast field of snow, clad in a soot-black tunic with his grey direwolf and red dragon coat of arms adorning his chest, his dark cloak soaring in the wind and hair pulled back from his face to reveal his handsomeness.

She descended using Drogon’s scales and spikes as a harness and took Jon’s hand in her own where he stood waiting for her. He drew her to him and moving her arm around his back, kissed her on the lips and whispered, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too” she reciprocated, lowering her face in his chest and letting herself get engulfed in his warm cloak and warmer embrace. She studied him as if he were a mystery and smiling secretly, allowed him to help mount his coal-black steed. Leaning into his chest, and firmly ensconced between his strong arms they rode back to Winterfell in complete silence. He led her into the castle through the posterior gate and then taking her hand in his, they walked through a maze of tunnels and staircases that led them directly to their warm chambers.

There were so many things that had to be said, so many questions that needed asking, but at that moment, they needed to feel each other’s touch more than anything in the world. They were tearing at each other’s clothes when Jon shut the door behind him and kissed her roughly, his one hand underneath her head, tipping her to him the way he wanted and the other hand underneath her waist, tugging her into him, touching her where he needed.

He dragged his mouth along her cheekbones, down her neck, sucking her skin between his lips, nipping her, _marking_ her. She gripped at his shoulders with the true strength of a dragon rider, working the magic of her fingers at the nape of his neck till he growled and pressed his entire body into her. Breathing heavily, Jon whispered, “I’ve missed _this_ ”

“Oh.. me too..” she moaned before craning her neck to find his lips back again.

Jon lifted the skirt of her undone coat and pushed her already loosened breeches down. “I want you…” he husked and carried her to the bed that creaked softly under their weight.

He removed his breeches and wedged his knees in the space between her legs, catching her right leg around the pale thigh and bending it at the knee to spread her wider. He circled his pearling length and rubbed it between her nether lips, pushing two fingers inside her and working her engorged nub with the blunt head. Moving slowly between her perfect thighs, his fingers were prodding where she wanted to feel his distressing girth and his length was teasing her pert nub. Going feral with desire, Daenerys canted her hips and moaned, “ _Gods!_ I need you, Jon _.._ ” Discerningly pleased with her plea, Jon pressed himself against her wet core and letting out a wolfish howl, entered her, filling her to the hilt. He pounded, impelling her further into the ancient bed that creaked in pulse, and there was agony as well as ecstasy in the way he put his solid weight behind the snapping of hips at her core.  

She grunted when his fingers possessively dug in the dark stains of love he'd sucked on her neck and he whispered words of lust into her ear, teeth nipping at its lobes and another hand spreading her thighs wide apart. With her palm pressed against the dip of his spine, she clawed her nails to find purchase in his flesh.

"You'll be my ruin" he growled as she arched and then, taking her with him, he rode home.

He pressed his lips to the curve of her neck and feeling her heartbeat against his palm, he murmured, “...your heart is mine, as mine is yours, isn’t it?”

“It is, it always was, and it always will be, my love” she echoed, her fingers gently caressing the runes both old and new, she had carved on his perfectly sculpted back, “I love you, Jon. So much so that being away from you hurt like the Seven Hells.”

They made love one more time before Jon fell back in the bed, gasping and heavy eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“How fares the children?” His voice faltered and he turned away the moment those words left his lips. He sat up, lifting his breeches from the floor and turning them inside out.

She soothed and steadied him with a gentle hand on his back, “Jon, they are happy and well looked after.” She sighed a complain and an outrage, _a mummer’s farce_ , “Would you believe it, Missandei mentioned that their first words were, Kepa!”

Without looking at her, Jon smiled and shook his head, _you’re a terrible liar, my Queen._ “I’m happy they’re safe.” When he stood at the edge of the bed, drawing his shirt over his head, he saw a faint, mysterious smile on Daenerys’ lips. “What is it?”

“Nothing” she shook her head and looked around for her shift lying scattered somewhere in the pile of clothes “I must dress”

Jon kneeled on the bed and catching her wrist, he asked again “No, tell me. You’ve been looking differently at me. Is there something you want to say?”

Her lips stretched in a smile and her brows curved upwards. “You look like the King of Winter with your hair tied back” she then nuzzled his chest “-- though you smell of pine and cold, and, ash and musk” she inhaled him in her senses, took in the beauty of his physique and the solemnness of his eyes, “– cusp of ice and fire.”

A mellow smile crossed his lips. “And you don’t like it?”

“No, not that. I do. It’s just not how I am used to seeing you. You _should_ wear it that way now that we’re in the North.”

 _Liar._ He thought again and reached for the leather behind his head. Drawing it loose, he shook his head to free his bound hair, but Daenerys was already on her knees, _so close,_ with her fingers in his hair, and kissing him hungrily.

“I missed _this_ , the feel of your fingers weaved through them.” There was an unmistakable ache in his voice, and then he snapped himself out of it, kissing her back ravenously. Jon moaned, tsk’ed, and peeled his clothes away one more time. “ … look what you’ve done..” he sighed, eyes glancing lower to her slickness and the turgid thing between them and tangling his hand between her silver tresses, he once again pushed her back into the bed.

 

***

 

All those days of warmth and some measure of joy became a distant dream when they left the confines of Winterfell and marched onto the Wall to take the fight to the Others.

Daenerys lifted her hands as Jon slipped the chainmail over her gambeson. He then helped her into a light-weight plate of steel, lined with furs and pressed a dagger in her hand, instructing her for the hundredth time on how to use it.

When she mounted Drogon, he checked the knots and buckles of the saddle and the harness several times before he could have the heart to turn away from her. Feeling her eyes burning a hole into his armor, he sighed a sullen warning, “Don’t say anything. I know you have led dragons into battle before I ever came into your life. And while that’s true, Gods know I’d rather have you with children than here. Don’t take this small measure of peace away from me. It’s my right to fuss over you.”

Daenerys smiled hesitantly at her King. “I’m not taking away anything from you. It is your right and so is mine – you be careful too, Jon.” She could read him like the back of her hand. Sighing when he nodded meekly, she removed her moleskin glove from one hand and caressed his face with her fingertips, “Look at me, I intend to go back to Dragonstone with _you_. Do you understand?”

“I know.” He agreed and smiled mirthlessly.

 

***

 

It would be over a year before the blue-eyed monsters could be defeated and they would eventually unite with their children.

 

***

 

**Winterfell - A year after the war**

 

They were in the Great Hall - the surviving dragons and direwolves, _kinsmen,_ gathered around an ancient table that kings, lords and family alike had sat once, sharing mead and meat.

The moment Jon lowered Aenar and Naerys from his hips onto the floor, Naerys ran to her aunt Arya and jump into her arms without a care, yelling “Āria!”. Aenar ran to Sansa and she picked him in her arms and sat him on her lap, neatly tying a napkin around his collar and showing him how to eat with a fork and knife. “Good morning, My Prince” She kissed his cheek “Now hold the fork in your left hand and the knife in the right …”

Shaking his head and amused at the contrast between his son and daughter, Jon moved a chair back, gesturing Daenerys to take a seat beside him.

“We’ve been here a long time” Arya pointedly looked between the two of them before bursting in a fit of laughter.

“Good morning, Arya.” Jon tried to look nonchalant. “Sansa.” Jon smiled and nodded. “Lord Stark.” Jon bowed slightly.

“King Jon” everyone bowed and reciprocated, none without a smirk while Daenerys tried to distract herself from looking flushed by looking around for bacon and eggs.

“Kepa and Muna playing dwagon-dwagon” Naerys cackled, making Jon and Daenerys turn a vibrant red and Arya made a gagging sound at it while everyone else including the serving girls tried to hold in a chuckle and look away as swiftly as they could.

Rickon pushed himself from the chair on seeing a green-eyed girl walk into the Hall. “My Lady!”

Arya and Naerys were tearing warm loaves of bread, turning them between hands to cool them before popping them into their mouths and Aenar was engrossed in a conversation with Sansa that was barely audible to others. Jon was talking to the serving boy, asking him to fetch mulled wine and burnt bacon for him and the Queen.

“I’m sorry, I did not know it’s a family affair.” The girl hesitated, looking uncomfortable at interrupting a private meal.

 “My lady, please, you’re most welcome to sup with us.” Rickon gestured and no one but Daenerys noticed the spark in his eyes when he looked at the young girl, Meera Reed, the lady of Greywater Watch.

“No, it’s quite alright, Lord Stark.” Meera fumbled and swiftly left the Hall. Daenerys pressed a hand against Jon’s forearm, informed him she’d be back in a moment and went after Meera.

“Lady Meera,” she called out from behind “mind if I take a walk with you?”

“Of course not, Your Grace. It would be an honor.” Meera returned.

The walked together through the path that had been freshly raked and cleared of snow. “My Lady, I cannot begin to understand what you must be going through. I remember seeing my King lay abed for days before the Gods thought it fitting to answer my prayers.” She could hear Meera draw a hitched breath and took her hand in her own, “You must move on, Lady Meera. I shall give no false hopes to you. It would not be easy, you may never forget him, but life has to be lived in the present and not in the past.”

“I loved him” Meera breathed out a sob and Daenerys held her, stroking her back till her breathing steadied.

“I know” Daenerys murmured, as they strolled towards the courtyard. “Let the ghosts of the past reside where they belong. In the past. You have your whole life ahead of you, my lady.”

“Meera” Meera let out a choked sigh, “Please call me Meera, Your Grace. That’s what everyone always called me. My father, my brother and _he_ too.”

Daenerys smiled fondly at the young girl and tucked her brown curls behind her ears the way she did Naery’s unruly silver curls. “Greywater Watch is yours by right, Meera and Dragonstone will be honored to host you, but listen to your heart and see if you can make a home in Winterfell.”

“I could try I suppose...” Meera whispered quaintly. On reaching the library tower, Daenerys stroked her arm and excused herself, “I’ll find you in the Hall, hmm? I need to see someone here.”

 

 

“This is for you, little one.” Arya removed a wooden sword from the bamboo sheath and presented it to Naerys who threw her arms around Arya’s shoulders and kissed her. “Kirimvose, sodjisto Āria”

“You’re welcome, rūs riña! This is from Gendry and I.”

Their moment was interrupted by Jon who’d been contemplating on having a conversation with Arya for some time now. _There’s no better time than now,_ he mused. “Do you intend to wed him?”

“No, I don’t” Arya responded swifter than he had anticipated. “I’m surprised it took you so long to ask.” She mocked her brother, not taking her eyes off her niece and slowly adjusting her tiny fingers around the hilt of the wooden blade.

“Why not?” Jon grew irritated because he wasn’t prepared to receive a blunt response from his sister. He’d hoped she would argue or haggle but _outright denial_ , he hadn’t contemplated.

“Why should I?” Arya quipped and then excitement grew in her voice, “See, it’s that easy, little one!”

Jon wasn’t sure if Arya was teaching his daughter to defy her father or to grip a sword. Daenerys _would have known what to say,_ he thought, scratching his head with nails.

He turned his eyes towards Sansa for support. “Before you ask me, I should tell you - no, I won’t negotiate a truce between you two and I don’t intend to wed. Lady Brienne and I are going north.”

 _“This_ is north!” Jon bemoaned.

“True North,” Sansa smiled, “Toregg has promised to show us the _true north_ ”

"Toregg?"

"Of the freefolk" Sansa quipped.

"I know who Toregg is! Toregg? hh...how? ...when?" Jon stuttered.

Leaving Jon fumbling and dumbfounded, Sansa scooped up Aenar, and wiping the lemon cake crumbs from his tiny mouth she asked him, “Do you want to see the library, my Prince? Come, we’ll find lord Tarly and he’ll show us your favorite books.”

Daenerys approached him with a titillating smile “Naerys and Aenar won’t need us for some time. Do you want to go back to the chambers? I’m not hungry _for food._ ” She whispered in Jon’s ear. _That’s one way of getting over the events of the day._ Her hand on his was warmth, the steadying thing in his life and an unmindful and unabashed Jon pulled her into his lap and whispered, “what did Sam say?”

 

 

Meera watched from a distance - the strange mix of people who found love and trust in each other amidst the terrible tragedies that had befallen them and their families.

She watched a brother hesitating to intrude on his sisters’ lives and yet, full of worry for their future; she watched two young children who were born when monsters had gathered all around them and were cared for by compassionate people of foreign lands; she watched a young boy - born a king, raised a bastard, who walked through the halls of the dead and became the savior of the world; and then she watched a young queen who wrought kingdoms in both east and the west, a mother who birthed dragons – beasts and human alike, and she watched the same queen holding everyone by a thread of love and hope,

When Meera looked around, she saw _love_ that came in many forms.

She watched Rickon’s shy smile when a wife whispered something in her husband’s ear making him blush like a green boy; she saw Rickon turn pink and lower his gaze as a King pulled his Queen into his lap and his protective hand over her stomach and his lips against her cheek looked like the beginning of something beautiful; she noticed Rickon’s wide grin when a sister threw a loaf at that King and yelled “gross!”; she saw Rickon cough and choke when a silver princess repeated after her aunt, “goss” and a silver prince closed his ears, scrunched his nose, and muttered, “bad word!” to his red-haired aunt and she concurred with him.

When Meera looked around, she saw a _family_ and she thought, _this could be my home._

“I should like to stay … with your consent of course.” Meera whispered to Rickon and he smiled gently, a different kind of smile and Meera decided that she would like to see him smile more often.

 

***

**A Wedding in the Winterfell Godswood**

 

“I understand there must so many memories bound with the heart tree, my lady. We may wed at the Sept if you prefer.”

Rickon had grown up to look so much like his brother Brandon that it had ached in the beginning, but now when she saw him, she didn’t see Bran in him. Rickon was his mother, Lady Catelyn, his father, Lord Eddard, his sisters - Arya and Sansa and his brothers - Robb, Jon Snow, and Bran. Rickon was Jon Targaryen and there was a bit of Dragon Queen too in him. There was ferocity of Shaggydog in him, the fierceness of Osha and a wilderness of Skagos. Underneath his pale Stark skin and his red Tully hair, he was _him_. The man who couldn’t tame the wildness of his hair but he was able to tame the wildness inside him to do what was needed to ensure the survival of his people through winter.

He had taken her hunting and let her dress in breeches and her moss green shirt that any other man would have mocked her for. He sat silently when she told him the tales of Jojen and Hodor, and Bran too. When he found her silent, he never asked who she thought of. He just joined her in her silence.

He was all those things and more; a shy, honorable man who’d given her time and a choice to do as she wished. He was the lord of Winterfell, the Warden of the North who could have commanded her to wed any man not excluding himself, however, he never looked at her with anything but love and understanding.

“No, you’re not a ghost of my past, you’re my future. We’re of the north and we’ll say our vows before the Old Gods.”

 

 

A year later, Meera gave birth to the heir of Winterfell, Jojen Stark.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter would be overlapping this one and we'll meet Ghost then.


	28. Dragon's Steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackfyre finds its way back home. And brings painful memories with it.

**_Winterfell_ **

 

It hadn’t been long since the war ended and cooped up inside the castle and unable to go back to Dragonstone, they planned for the future. The future of the Seven Kingdoms. With many a House lacking heirs and having faced near annihilation, there were more castles and seats available than the claimants. Although the loss of lives and the destruction that had wreaked Westeros were most unfortunate, it also meant less opposition to the changes they wanted to make and policies they wanted to implement.

 

“The Crownlands are the smallest of the Seven Kingdoms,” Jon pondered looking over the maps. “and the Stormlands one of the most neglected due to Cersei’s wars and current lack of leadership.” With that, he moved the Dragon over the Stormlands and Daenerys found herself pleased with the idea. She gently moved her fingers over the dark lines of the map that were Slayne river and then towards the Red Mountains.

 

“The freefolk deserve their own region if they wish to return to their ancestral lands Beyond-the-Wall.” Said Dany and Jon tilted his head in acquiescence. “If by the will of the Gods the peace lasts, I hope to bring down the Wall, merging the freefolk with rest of the Westeros.”

 

“That’s ambitious and it might work in the long run but I won’t be scrambling to bring down that Wall anytime soon.” Jon lived each moment with a lingering memory of the ice zombies and how close they had come to losing everything. He then went on cautiously, “There’s still the matter of Storm’s End”

 

“What of it?” Daenerys looked away. “We could bestow it upon one of the Targaryen loyalists from the Crownlands or to Lady Brienne of Evenfall Hall for her unwavering loyalty to the Starks and for fighting bravely by our side.”

 

Jon hesitated before speaking. “We know that Gendry is Robert’s son. Would you consider legitimizing him?”

 

Daenerys swallowed uncomfortably and when her eyes met Jon’s, they were filled with a stoic complain. “House Baratheon is gone.”

 

“Does it have to be?” Jon moved cautiously towards her.

 

“No one would recognize his authority just because we legitimized him.” She spoke, looking away.

 

“ _I_ could have been Lord Stark’s bastard born to a lowborn mother.” Jon spoke, appealing to her kinder instincts.

 

“And I still would have loved you for who you are.” She began with a softness that she always reserved for him, but she felt overwhelmed upon the realization of what Jon was truly asking, “Please don’t ask me to do this, Jon. The usurper murdered our family and doomed our line!”

 

“It was war, Daenerys.” He tried to soothe her with his touch, but she flinched.

 

“He murdered Rhaegar and I was left with Viserys." She fumed. "Princess Elia and Rhaegar’s children were brutally murdered. That wasn’t war, that was treachery and cowardice. Or have you forgotten?” She didn’t realize she was seething until she looked at Jon.

 

“I haven’t forgotten anything.” Even his rage was cold, frozen as the lands he’d been brought up in, yet it burnt like the fire of the dragon. “He was my father, as I recall.”

 

“Then why do you want to revive _that_ name?” Vengeance poured from her words “I have nothing against Gendry, but the usurper fought a war over his infatuation with Lady Lyanna…”

 

The anger of her otherwise mild-mannered husband was a terrible thing. She had seen that multiple times over the past three years and it was only the first time she had been at the receiving end of it. “Don’t. Daenerys. Don’t.” There was a warning in his tone, a plea, and a low rumble of a storm brewing inside his chest, and he was out of the chambers before the argument went any further.

 

He had contemplated and relived the events leading up to the rebellion many times over in his head and he always found himself at the center of it. _Was he to be blamed for it all? Was his lady mother to be blamed?_ _No_ , the thought was too disturbing and another man’s unnatural affection for his mother was not something he wanted to discuss with anyone.

 

Curiously deliberating why the woman he loved more than anything in the world was enraged at the idea of giving a faultless bastard boy his father’s name, his thoughts went to what he knew of her life as an exiled Princess. The heart-wrenching tale of what she had gone through as a girl; the tale she shared with him a long time ago when he had visited Dragonstone to plead with her for her armies and dragons to defeat the threat north of the Wall.

 

_(Dragonstone, long time ago...)_

_Varys knelt on one knee. “Your Grace, as I recall, you called for swords from far and wide to fight your nephew’s war. Your humble servant was able to retrieve a Valyrian Steel blade that rightly belongs to you.” He then clicked his tongue in a pretense sorrow, “Sadly, the knight wielding the blade met with an unfortunate accident at the sea.”_

_Daenerys was an epitome of grace and queenly veneer when she accepted the sword from him and granted the spider and a certain magister from Pentos pardon for their past crimes. “My nephew’s war is my war too. And if you ever betray the crown again, I’ll have you and your benefactor burnt alive for it.” She gritted before walking past him; thereby dismissing the court abruptly - something she had never done for as long as Jon had watched her in session._

_“You Grace, the Prince is here to see you.” A sentry’s timid voice fell on her pounding ears. Her bloodshot eyes stared at the door and she saw it open ever so slowly, almost cautious and wary._

_Jon looked around and was left aghast at the vandalized state of her chambers. There were upturned chairs and torn shreds of linens and furs lying all around._

_“Jon,” she said softly. There was an unmistakable agony in her voice that wrenched Jon’s heart. In swift, long strides he was there, cautiously taking the naked steel from her hands and letting it drop to the floor with a clatter._

_“He had Blackfyre with him all this time; while he was fooling Viserys and convincing him to sell me. Mine own brother, Jon! The merchant whispered in his ears and he sold me.” She sobbed as Jon silently worked, washing her bloodied hands and covering them in linen. His chest twisted in misery as she recoiled and shuddered at the memories and wailed. Daenerys mourned her brother, her lost innocence, she mourned her defilement over and again by the man who became her husband, she mourned her unborn child. Most of all she mourned a life that has been taken away from her forever – she absentmindedly lifted her hands and watched them closely as she mourned the curse over her womb and that she would never be able to hold daughters and sons of her own in her arms._

_“Daenerys,” his voice pulled her out of the bitter memory and his eyes we more alight with dragon-fire than her own “give me leave and I’ll drag that merchant through the Seven Hells and back for you.”_

_Her hands were stinging with pain and her chest was burning in hurt and agony. “I’ve pardoned him. Who would believe us if we cannot keep our word?”_

_“I made no promises, Daenerys” Jon pursed his lips and she could feel the fury burning underneath his cold demeanor “and neither did your dragons.”_

_“You’ll do no such thing. Promise me, Jon. Promise me.” Her rage collapsed into despair and with a heavy heart she reminded him, “The crown has made a decision and that includes you as well.”_

 

Jon drank himself to stupor that night. Treading the tumultuousness of his waking thoughts and maudlin nightmares, he found himself watching a small girl who looked much like his daughter Naerys’ but did not have his dark grey eyes. She was being chased by masked men through the streets and dark alleys of an unknown town. The child transformed into a beautiful maiden and a smile had barely crossed her lips, Jon found her struggling under the cruel hands of a large man as he bent her roughly and he wished death upon himself when her shrill cries echoed through the empty lands. Hot tears burnt his cheeks as Jon struggled and every bone in his body wanted to strike the man down, but he found himself frozen in his nightmare. He saw the same girl holding a dead babe in her arms and a broken crown lying in blood. The bitter taste of rage and his own blood coated his tongue and his eyes flew open with a mournful cry skewered in his chest.

 

It must have been the Hour of the Owl; the castle was engulfed in darkness. Even the dragons and wolves were eerily silent that night. He rushed out of the Hall, past the guards and headed for the inner Keep.

 

In her chambers, she sat suppressing her emotions, fingers absentmindedly tracing the engravings on Blackfyre’s sheath. He stared at her and she held still, neither rage nor hatred shone in her eyes. It was worse. _Disappointment._ He had failed to protect her from his own anger. A terrible vexing ran through his veins that ended up in a flare against his heart.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Daenerys.” He prayed, “Forgive me.”

 

“There’s nothing to forgive. I’ve affixed my seal to the legitimization documents. I have forgiven people for far worse. If I am being truly honest, I can’t hold anyone responsible for the manner of his birth.” The sadness of her eyes had to be one of the worst sights of his life.

 

“No, that is not what I meant. I’m sorry for everything you had to endure. I should have heard you instead of lashing out at you, I shouldn’t have stormed out the way I did.” He wanted to take her hand in his, but she made no sign to give in and barely spared him another glance. “Daenerys, the mere thought of what happened with you burns me inside out and Gods know it makes me want to kill every man that wronged you. You’re strong and invincible, Daenerys Stormborn and sometimes it’s easy to forget that behind all that strength, behind that compassionate and forgiving person, there was once a girl who deserved to be loved and cared for and instead, she was oppressed and denied the smallest of joys in her life.” Jon bid her understanding, hoping she would meet him halfway.

 

“I could say the same of you. You were wronged too.” Her murmur was lifeless and full of pain, “What happened to you was an injustice but you’re right; Rhaegar fought valiantly and honorably, and when Rhaegar lost, his family paid the price of it. Jon, I meant no insult to you or your lady mother, but strive as I may, presently I cannot bring myself to forgive the usurper and his House. However, someday I might. For now, I’d do it for Arya and for the man who stood by us battle after battle; he certainly deserves better from me.”

 

Jon rubbed his brow and Daenerys’ entire body tensed as he took a cautious step in her direction. “Will you let me hold you at least, my love?” he whispered, taking Blackfyre from her hands and holding it in his left hand as his right curled around her and hugged her to his chest that was filled with a desire that was far from prurient. Daenerys allowed him near, welcoming his arms when he held her, and Jon despised himself when he took her shaking hand in his, vowing never to put her through such misery again.

 

That night as they laid pressed against each other, naked and soul-bare, he couldn’t get the disturbing image of the man forcing her on her knees away from his mind. He shivered, holding her that much more closely;  _‘the girl from my nightmare wasn’t Daenerys’_ he led his mind into believing or _was it just a hope he wished were true?_ He had never imagined asking her anything more than she had shared that one fateful night when her pain was unrelenting. It was a cruel thing, the deed and the memory of it. He caressed the new scar that the war had given her, that went right from her ribs down to her middle; another reminder how he had failed to protect her. 

 

Saddled with the memories of the past, she could have turned brittle and cold, closed herself to the world. Instead, she chose to trust the man who had loved her unconditionally for as long as she has known him. “Can you forgive me for the things I said, for not finding mercy in my heart?” She admitted after an unsettling bout of silence.

 

He curled his arm underneath her and tried to think of all the ways he could touch her, make her coo and coil around him. "You shouldn't be seeking forgiveness for anything. We're humans, fashioned for love; and in your anger, there's love for your family, _our_ family." Jon showered her with small kisses and inhaled her, feeling her in his blood. Deep in their hearts, they both knew they would not find any solace that night but the comfort and warmth of holding each other might just see them through the frost.

 

Banishing all other thoughts from his mind and condemning his nightmares to eternal hell, Jon prayed to the Gods to bring an end to her struggles. She sank into him and clutching him with her two hands, she begged, “hold me”.

 

“Always” And he did, until the sun came up, and beyond. With a promise of forever.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A polite reminder that the fic isn't written in a linear fashion. So we keep going back and forth over events that I believe are important. This was to come later but with the final outline, i think it fits better here. Please bear with me for 2 or 3 more chapters, am trying to fit my headcanons and at thr same time, make the story move along. Your feedback would be most helpful.
> 
> The next update should come sooner.


	29. Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on.

**_ Winterfell _ **

 

“What is it, Sam?” asked Jon.

 

“Everything is fine and just as you suspected, there’s two of them in there. Please accept my congratulations. By all estimates, the queen is in the fifth moon of her childbearing.” Samwell Tarly bowed, gathered his vials and measures, and hastened his way to the door.

 

“Gilly, you stay with the Queen. I just remembered I have something to discuss with Sam. I’ll be back soon.” Jon commanded and went after the maester.

 

“My King…” Daenerys lovingly addressed him by his title but he was gone.

 

“Sam,” He fixed one of his frosty stares at his friend, “what is it?”

 

“Jon,” Sam could no longer hide his troubled voice, “it could be nothing but that gash from the battle was deep. As the babes grow, the scar is going to get thinner and weaker and .. I didn’t imagine the Queen will carry twins again, I mean, it’s not common in your line.”

 

“What are you saying, Sam?” he asked again, unwilling to understand his friend’s unspoken words.

 

“Jon, let me write to the Citadel. Surely there must be ways..”

 

“Ways to _what_?” Jon’s voice became shrill with anger.

 

“I don’t know yet. Jon, please, I suggest you take proper care of the Queen and let the maesters do their job. Meanwhile, any stress is not good at this point.” With that Samwell Tarly rubbed his forehead and swiftly made his way to the rookery.

 

 *

 

“Jon, what was it that couldn’t wait?” Daenerys pouted when Jon returned to the chambers and closed the door after Gilly left.

 

“There were reports of flooding from the villages in the vicinity of the Wall. I’ve asked Sam to send ravens to Whitetree and Queenscrow. Would it bother you if I say we might not be able to go south in the near future?” He asked, cautiously moving aside the furs and slipping beside her in the bed.

 

“I was hoping to go back to Dragonstone and birth our two babes in the same chambers as Naerys and Aenar. But this situation around the Wall is certainly more important.” She leaned into his shoulder and took his right hand in her left and twined her fingers tightly around his.

 

“Aren’t you happy about the babes?” She wondered aloud, feeling disheartened at the lack of cheer in her husband’s voice.

 

“Why would you think that?” Jon smiled and brought her hand to his lips. “I cannot wait to meet them! I have a feeling its girls this time and if you like, we can name them after our mothers.”

 

She placed a soft kiss around his ear and then went on joyously imagining her life with Jon and their many children. “I wish we have a boy the next time. Maybe two of them again.” She chuckled biting her lip flirtatiously and Jon could not bring himself to share the maester’s misgivings with her.

 

“Whatever you wish, my love.” Jon brought her closer to his chest and prayed to the Gods in silence. His hand reached the spot he reckoned his babes were sleeping but was greeted by a playful kick against his palm. Jon could all but hold a tear and smile for his wife. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been, Daenerys.” He _lied_ when she observed him curiously.

 

 *

 

Less than three moons had passed when one day, while strolling the castle yards, Daenerys doubled over in pain. The queensguard sent for the maesters and the King. Gendry picked her immediately and carried her to the nearest chambers.

 

“What did you say to her?” Arya slapped his forearm with the back of her hand.

 

“Nothing! We were just talking and then Daenerys nearly broke my arm with her grip and her knees buckled. I carried her here.”

 

“Jon will kill you. And if _he_ doesn’t, I will!” Arya fumed and left a shocked Gendry standing at the door.

 

Jon beat the guards by yards and had cornered a petrified maester right outside the chambers before anyone could understand what had happened. “You said she was faring well. Didn’t you, _maester?”_ he seethed.

 

“Jon, let go!” Arya exclaimed and Jon cocked his head towards the door, urging the maester away from his eyes.

 

“Somebody bloody well tell me what happened here?” he almost pleaded, anger still abound in his voice.

 

“Nothing happened. The babes are coming early. Sansa and Meera are in there with Daenerys and you need to calm the fuck down before you go in.”

 

 *

 

“There’s something wrong, isn’t it?” Daenerys trembled when Jon took her hand in his. Jon could not look below her face. There were rags strewn all around and between her legs was a pool of pale red.

 

“There isn’t! Just breathe.” Jon steadied her against him.

 

The pains of birth kept coming and going and Daenerys could hear her two babes screaming and crying outside the door.

 

“Jon, the children need you, they’re scared and won’t be pacified." Daenerys winced in pain before finding her voice, "You should go, I have Sansa, Meera and a whole lot of people helping me out.”

 

“I’m not leaving you alone. Arya and Morri are with them.”

 

“Please, Jon. I don’t want them to hear me or see me like this.” She insisted.

 

He nodded in concession and looked around for Sam, the maester and friend who was staring apologetically at him. “Sam, I’m entrusting her to you. Don’t fail me.” He murmured before asking Sansa to take his place next to Daenerys.

 

Jon turned one last time and plastered a smile on his face that never reached his eyes. “I shall come back to you as soon as Aenar and Naerys are settled.”

 

He remembered her nodding and straining her face to smile back at him.

 

 *

 

“Why was muna crying? Is someone hurting her?”

 

“No, my children, no one can hurt Muna. She’s bringing your sisters into this world and she’s crying because she’s happy for it.” He carried both children in his arms and made sure they had their supper. Afterwards, he took a small box from his chambers and went to the Godswood. He reached into it and retrieved the pearl that had broken from her wedding silks and ricocheted near his feet. Jon always carried that and the jasmine flowers from her hair _that_ night. He dropped those in the roots of the sacred tree and covered it with remnants of fallen red leaves and black earth.

 

“Kepa, what are you doing?”

 

“I’m praying to the Gods for your mother, little ones. Offering them something precious to me. I hear Gods like that.”

 

“Can we pray too?”

 

“Of course. What will you pray?”

 

“I’ll pray for a brother. Aenar doesn’t want a sister.” Naerys chimed.

 

“I’ll pray for mother. I don’t want her to leave us like rōva muna did.” Said Aenar. _Always the solemn one_ , Jon thought.

 

“She won’t leave us, stupid! Aunt Āria says muna is the strongest person and not even the bad gods could scare her.”

 

Jon brought both children to his chest and hugged them close. “You both must rest now. Will you go to aunt Āria and allow me be with muna now? I’ll be sure to tell her you both prayed for her, hmm?”

 

He asked the maidservants to take the children to their chambers and sat there for some more time; wondering what _he_ wanted? He thought of the perfect life that somehow fell in his lap in form of the perfect woman and the precious little humans he and Daenerys had made together. _When did I become so greedy? Is this the price I pay for my greed?_

 

_“I can’t love anyone more than I love you” he had declared once._

_“Wait until you meet your babes. You’ll forget me.” She had laughed._

 

Jon’s reluctant feet took him to the birthing chambers and he found that he did not have the courage to go inside. He lingered at the door and then suspicion took root - it was too quiet. His hand was at the door when it flew open and he heard Samwell, “–ah. Jon, I was coming to you myself. You have a son and a daughter, again.” His friend and brother in all but blood patted his shoulder.

 

“And..?” Jon’s heart sank at the troubled look in Sam’s eyes.

 

“The birth was harsh on the queen, Jon.” Samwell looked apologetically at his former brother, and now King. “The babes are faring well. They’re with the wet-nurse and Lady Sansa is with them. She’ll bring them to you soon.”

 

Jon’s bones faltered and he had to lean against the wall to steady himself.

 

“Jon, I wish I could bear better news to you but since no one else seemed to be willing to confront the King, it has to be me. You may want to spend as much time with her as you can." Sam pressed his hand against Jon's arm, "Her Grace’s fever _must_ break within a day.”

 

Inside the quiet chambers, his wife was lying unconscious. A few maidservants stood near her feet but Jon sent them all away. “Wait outside” he commanded. "And request Lady Sansa to bring the babes to the Queen's chambers."

 

“Ghost, will you watch over _us_ tonight?” leaning into his furry friend, he prayed that when a new day begins, his children still have a mother.

 

Jon removed and stashed away his sword belt and doublet and stretched himself next to Dany, watching her ragged breaths come and go. When he closed his eyes, he heard a silent howl and a faint rustling of leaves, he smelled a distinct stench of blood and death and then, a voice calling out to him.

 

Jon remembered that voice, that of a fallen brother, of a guardian, and when he looked around the dimly lit room, he heard the wail of a babe. He went up to the crib and scooped the babe in his arms. He gazed at his raven-haired son who was watching him with knowing eyes, grey eyes, grey of the North and the winter. Not minutes later, he heard the creaking of bed and Daenerys silently watching him. Her hand rose and Jon was there to take it in his own. “Brandon,” he kissed Daenerys’ forehead and lowered the babe on her chest, “we’ll call him Brandon.”

 

Daenerys nodded, “I reckon we won’t have a Rhaella.” She offered a muted smile and held her sorrow at bay. Her fate had an odd way of betraying her and reminding her that nothing in life ever came easy. “The other babe?” she worried. 

 

“We already have our Rhaella and Lyanna. Our little girl, Rhaenna” his eyes moved to the weirwood bassinette. “Shall I bring her to you?”

 

“Aye, please.” Daenerys prayed, bringing her son's small pout to her chest.

 

“She’s..” Daenerys’ waivered on looking upon her newborn daughter’s face.

 

“Perfect. She’s perfect, my love. She’s all you. Your hair and your eyes.” Jon kissed her temple.

 

“Jon, I know I won’t be giving you any more sons and daughters” Daenerys croaked, tears spilling from her eyes.

 

Jon's heart sank at her despair. Brushing her hair away from her face, he kissed her chastely. “You have given me four more than I ever imagined I’d have.” When Daenerys’ lips quivered, she found herself in Jon’s steady arm, sopping bitter tears into his wounds.

 

 

** Dragonstone (three years later..)  
**

 

 

“What did I teach you today, Naerys?

 

“Stick ‘em with the pointy end?”

 

“No! Gods, no! That’s what your father taught you. Quiet as a shadow, little one! Your opponent must never hear you coming!” Arya took the wooden sword from Naerys’ hand passed it to a waiting servant. “Now tiptoe from here to your mother and I’ll see you at supper!” Naerys ran towards the gardens. “And don’t startle her!” Arya warned from behind.

 

 *

 

 

“Muna! Kepa and I went on Rhaegal!” Aenar chirped in excitement.

 

Dany put away the parchments and ledgers she was reading and spread her arms for her son. “And where’s your father now?”

 

“He’s with rōva uncle.”

 

“Which big uncle?” She twisted her brows quizzingly.

 

“Big uncle who likes bears.”

 

“Oh.” Daenerys covered her lips with her fingers. “So that’s why he sent you here with Ser Barristan.”

 

“Aye!” Aenar muttered, picking a journal, pretending to make sense of numbers and names against those.

 

“Aye?” It pleasantly surprised her how much all her children took after Jon’s mannerisms. Having spent a large part of recent years either in the north or with Arya, her children could easily be confused for direwolves if not for their Valyrian hair or eyes. All except her second son, Bran, who inherited the direwolf’s coloring and the dragon’s daunt.

 

“Aye aye!” Aenar burred in a distinctly northern accent. He wrapped his small hands around his mother’s neck and complained, “Muna, I don’t like Naerys”

 

“Why Aenar?” Daenerys looked at him fondly, surely not without amusement.

 

“Naerys fights all day and hits me with the sword aunt Āria gave her.”

 

“But Naerys loves you, Aenar. She’s brave and she’s always been there when kepa and muna were away fighting the bad things.”

 

“Hmm. I can try to like her, I suppose.” Her son looked at her with such seriousness, she could do only so much to keep herself from bursting into laughter. Getting a hold of herself, she continued, “Your sister just wants you to play, Aenar. Don’t you think it would be better if you sparred with her?”

 

“What will I do with a sword, I'm not going to be the king. And I like books!”

 

“Your sister will need all the help when she comes into her throne. You can advise her, or command her armies if she sees fit, or find your own trade. But it would please me if you joined her in training.”

 

“Do I have to marry her also?”

 

Her eyes widened and found herself searching for words. Recollecting her thoughts and senses, she spoke, “You don’t have to marry anyone you don’t like. And especially not Naerys.” She then whispered secretively in his ears. “Father won’t be too happy about it.”

 

“But everyone says you and father married because you were Targaryens.”

 

“No, my sweet. We married because we made each other very happy and we loved each other.”

 

“Does that mean I can marry whoever I love?”

 

“Aye.” She worded in her husband’s accent and then laughed. “But only if they love you back.”

 

As Aenar climbed into her lap, he hugged her and kissed her on the cheeks. “Even you?”

 

“Even me. But you will have to defeat father in a sword fight. Do you think you could do that?” Daenerys chuckled.

 

 

 

Jon marched into Aegon’s Garden with Naerys chasing a sluggishly padding Ghost, and the younger twins squirming and firmly tucked between his armpits. He chided Naerys, “How many times do I have to tell you that Ghost is not a horse!”

 

“Iā dāria ēdruta gīmigon skorkydoso naejot kipagon!” (A Queen must know how to ride.)

 

“Ride a horse then! Not Ghost.” Jon’s voice sounded replete with exasperation.

 

Rhaenna and Bran twisted in his arms and then sprinted towards Naerys and Ghost when he lowered them on the ground.

 

“Seven bloody hells!” Jon muttered under his breath. “Careful you two now!”

 

He reached for his wife and kissed her on the cheeks. “I caught these two eating mud from the flower bed. Wouldn’t listen to Morri or the dozen guards watching over them.” He grumbled and then his eyes went to an ever observant Aenar. “What tomes are we reading today?” Jon asked, mussing his son’s hair.

 

Aenar turned his head sideways and touched his father’s forearms and wrist. He then looked at his own childlike ones and turned to the white knight. “Ser Barristan, I will require a sword and armor. I must be a warrior.”

 

“As you command, my prince.” The White Knight replied, with a sorrowful cloud of the past blearing his vision for a heartbeat.

 

“What are we discussing today?” Jon wrinkled his brow at Daenerys.

 

She waited till Aenar was engrossed in a conversation with Ser Barristan.

 

“Aenar just found out know whom he must defeat if he has to marry me.” she laughed.

 

 “Oh!” Jon looked amused.

 

“Before that, he was wondering if he _must_ marry Naerys.”

 

Jon opened and closed his mouth several times, and then glared sharply at Daenerys who was trying her best to guise her laughter at Jon's inability to word his thoughts. “Still not a bleeding poet, I see!”

 

“Munaaaa” Aenar moaned. “Muna, she hit me again!”

 

“Stop, Naerys! What kind of queen will you be if you hurt people.” Daenerys scolded her firmly this time.

 

“Aenar is not people. He’s my brother.”

 

“A queen cannot judge her people based on blood or friendships, you have to be fair. And no hurting your brother again, alright?”

 

“He should have ducked! It’s easy. See!”

 

Meanwhile, Jon warily observed his younger twins trying to climb over the resting direwolf and indicated the guards and maids to take them all inside the castle.

 

“Gods be good!” Jon rolled his eyes and slumped into Daenerys’ lap, turning his face away from the ruckus around him. He looked up at her with a grin. “Sometimes I hope somebody would start a bloody war and it’ll be easier than this!”

 

“Is it? You don't want  _this_?” She asked him, smilingly looking around.

 

He gazed into her eyes and pulled her down on him, whispering between her lips, “I’d give my life a thousand times over to get here.”

 

 


	30. Children

_**Children** _

 

_**Dragonstone ** _

 

Jon and Daenerys spent much of their time visiting various castles, traveling across the kingdom, meeting the small-folk and lords and striving to break the wheel that crushed the common-folk by giving them more power and voice in affairs of the lands they inhabited. While doing so, the Targaryens addressed the misgivings that had been spread about their family, changed the people’s perception of madness and cruelty about their House and consolidated their own power as well; boundaries were redrawn, ruling councils akin to small council of the Crown were formed for each region with approval from the ruling monarchs, Houses of Learning and Houses of Healing were established that did not distinguish between the highborn and low born, or man and woman and one single army was raised under the three-headed dragon banners to protect the lands and keep the peace.

 

Their children grew under the watchful eyes of Jon’s sisters, trusted maesters and council member and their endeavors across the kingdoms came at the price of their presence in the lives of their children.

 

Naerys was three and ten since she had been involved in the affairs of the Crown, sitting in council meetings, observing her mother and father make decisions that impacted the lives of countless people.

 

“It’s been two years since you’ve been witnessing the inner workings of the small council, Naerys. Going forward, we would like you to cast your vote in _certain_ matters.”

 

Naerys’ next words shocked everyone. “It’s not me, Muna. I want to see the world, sail east, see Valyria, and what’s beyond.” Naerys then looked at her father, the King, “I am sorry, Kepa. I know I should have said something sooner. This isn’t my calling. I want to be a sailor, an adventurer, or maybe one-day aunt Aria and I can sail west, ‘til the edge of the world.” Her words were full of hope and excitement at the mere thought of seeing the unknown world.

 

Naerys then looked at her aghast mother, “Please Muna, forgive me for failing you but being tied to this place, _this_ life, it’s not me.”

 

Of all the things she had imagined Naerys say, this wasn’t it. Daenerys had wondered that her daughter might seek more involvement or travel to a certain kingdom and understand people better, maybe live with them too for she was never the one to shy away from meeting new people and learning their ways.

 

All four of her children had inherited a sense of righteousness from Jon and her, and she marveled it. It was one of the few things that had kept her from feeling like an arrant failure as a parent. It was the _only_ thing that made her breathe easy when she spent weeks or on occasions, moons away from her children - that they were raised well and were virtuous, even the willful Naerys and Brandon with the wolf’s blood were fair and kind when it came to treating people.

 

“Think of the countless lives that you will be able to improve when you’re a Queen. It’s not less of an adventure, Naerys.” Feeling a sense of loss and disappointment at the prospect of her daughter relinquishing what they had worked hard for, Daenerys raised her voice when she said, “And did we not raise you well and teach you the importance of duty and what we are doing?”

 

“We were raised by aunts Āria and Sansa, and uncle Sam and aunt Gilly, aunt Missi and old uncle Barristan, may Gods keep his soul, and the kingsguard and the maids.” Said Naerys defiantly.

 

“Naerys!” Daenerys roared in anger and _heartbreak_. All of her nightmares and the seeds of doubt about her inability to be a good mother were coming to fruition. At that moment Jon’s hand on her shoulder was the balm. “Apologize to your mother.” He instructed with iciness.

 

Naerys looked at Arya who was staring at her with sadness and disbelief. “No, little one you haven’t failed them, it’s I who has failed everyone. Forgive me.” With those words, Arya stormed out of the chambers ignoring Naerys’ calls, “wait, aunt Āria... please.. I didn’t mean it.”

 

“You talk to Arya. Let me talk to Naerys.” Jon whispered, wiping tears from Daenerys’ cheeks.

 

“Kepa, forgive me please.”

 

Jon raised a hand to silence her.

 

“You were right. We have failed you. We always thought, keeping you safe, knowing where you were, ensuring you were in good hands, given the right care would be enough. We did all of it and we tried to spend as much time ruling monarchs can spend with their children. Mayhaps even more, but clearly, it wasn’t enough.” Jon frowned. “You were born at the heels of a terrible, _terrible_ war. We missed your childhood. Believe me when I say that it gutted me when I came to know that it was Ser Barristan and Qhonno who made you and Aenar sit a horse and draw a bow. Unfortunately, spending time with our children was a luxury we could not afford. I don’t know what your other brothers and sister think but judging by your resentment, I am not holding out much hope. So, aye, we have failed as parents. Twice over.”

 

“Kepa,” Naerys interjected but Jon did not allow her to speak.

  

Jon patted the space next to him and when Naerys sat down and sobbed in his shoulder, he lovingly stroked her head and kissed her forehead. “Ruling is a burden, Naerys and no one would know it more than your mother and I. If it makes you so miserable, then it’s not for you.”

 

“Hear me out before you say anything, child. When you were born, your mother fought many within her small council to make sure that you sat the throne after us. It would have been easy to just let Aenar be our heir. No one would have complained. But it’s not the kind of world your mother hoped to leave for _you_. So, forgive her for thinking that you’d be more cognizant of it.” Jon lowered himself into the nearest chair. “In some ways we were wrong. We cannot control everything. It’s not what you had asked of us, you didn’t decide whether to be the queen, it’s what a mother who had once been controlled by men, had wanted for her daughter. I shall speak with your mother, give you leave to go see the world and in a year’s time if you think it’s what you still want, we shall discuss the matter with Aenar.”

 

“Aenar is _good,_ father. He’s not like me. He never even gets angry. The last moon, when I cut his hair in sleep, he didn’t get angry then too.” She chuckled, wiping tears off her cheeks.

 

“You’re a bully, Naerys Targaryen.” Jon laughed and then shook his head. “You’re a good child, Nae. _In your own way,”_ he added, eyes twinkling with childhood memories of his mischievous daughter. “We never contemplated –” Jon waivered, “you have wanted to be a queen since you were four!”

 

“I was four, Kepa. I’m not four anymore. I want to go to the east and live my life.” Naerys chewed her lip, “I have discussed this with Aenar. He would not give you any trouble although he’s a hermit in many ways, he will be a good King for his people and he’s too boring to be a rebel.”

 

“You did?” Jon observed her curiously, visibly displeased with himself. “What else has been going on behind our backs that we don’t know of?”

 

Naerys smiled and rested her head on her father’s shoulder. “Nothing, Kepa. I promise! He’s the king who will forward your legacy.”

 

“Our legacy? What would that be? Our children hate us for one.” He scoffed.

 

“No, your legacy is the thousands of children you took care of when they were orphaned by war, children born to poor parents, the freefolk, the Dothraki. Boys and girls who are learning to write and have the honor of serving in the elite Dragon’s Army and be the shield that guards the Seven Realms. My sires’ legacy will be so many infants and mothers who do not die in birthing bed because the maesters dare not turn them away.”

 

He looked at Nearys with surprise and pride.

 

“We all understand why you both were away.” Naerys looked down, ashamed and apologetic. “I was angry and I feared that you would never agree... I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to Muna too.”

 

She then removed the sword belt and stretched it to Jon.

 

"No! This belongs to you."

 

"Blackfyre belongs to the Prince of Dragonstone." Naerys teared up and insisted.

 

Jon reluctantly nodded and shaking his head in sadness, made his way to the door.

 

“Brandon has a direwolf.” Nearys blurted from behind.

 

“What now?” Jon turned.

 

“He wanted to surprise you. When he stayed with aunt Āria in Riverlands, he came back with a direwolf. You should act surprised when he tells you.”

 

“Gods!” Jon muttered, resigned at everything he has missed but happy nevertheless for his younger son.

 

“Kepa, am I your favorite?”

 

“I haven’t picked a favorite. Yet!” Jon smiled

 

“Aenar says it’s either me or Rhaenna. Don’t lie. You’re just as bad at it as Muna.”

 

Jon rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Gods save me for what I’m going to do next! Let me go speak with your mother.”

 

 

**Summerhall **

 

 

On Daenerys’ eight and thirtieth name day, Jon and Daenerys flew through the Crownlands, descended before the gates of a newly built castle.

 

Daenerys’ head was tilted to one side and there was a mix of unbearable sadness and unbound joy in her purple eyes as salt-water trickled down her cheeks. Jon pulled her and drew her to him. “Stop crying, my love; people will think the Queen hates her gift.”

 

When the gates opened, she found her entire family standing and waiting for their arrival.

 

It all seemed like a dream and she had no words to thank Jon.

 

_He had saved whatever he could from the meager honorarium he received from the crown’s coffers on the small council’s insistence. He borrowed from the Iron Bank and they refused to accept repayment from him. With generous contributions of labor from masons, stoneworkers, and artisans whom he could not otherwise afford, he rebuilt Summarhall for his beloved. He had it constructed in white marble with a carved redwood door at its entrance._

 

Jon watched her with love and admiration that night as Daenerys danced with all of their children one by one. He reached for the northern ale instead of the usual wine he had taken to during official visits across kingdoms and drained it down before getting up from the chair and making his way to the parquet. Aenar stopped and bowed as soon as he saw Jon approach. “Kepa” he smiled, placing a gentle peck on his mother’s cheek and giving her hand to Jon before taking a place next to Rhaenna who’d been smilingly watching her parents and siblings.

 

“What changed?” Daenerys playfully smiled, perching her hands above Jon’s shoulders as he circled his arms around her.

 

“Does a man require reasons for dancing with his beautiful wife?”

 

“That isn’t what I meant. You never enjoyed dancing, is all.” She smiled as they moved in slow circles to the slow melody of harp that Aenar himself had begun playing.

 

“I still hate it, but I couldn’t just watch you from the dais anymore without having my arms around you.” He grinned as he whispered in her ear.

 

Jon wasn’t a very skilled dancer, but he possessed the fluid grace of a swordsman. He admired her beauty as she moved with him, smiling radiantly through her violet eyes. She looked resplendent in the lace and silk attire that Naerys had brought as nameday present for her mother, her silver tresses were brushed and left loose down her shoulders, and an amethyst and diamond string gleamed around her slender neck.

 

“Do we have to stay till the end of the feast?” Jon sighed in her ear.

 

Daenerys knew that drawl and it still could send gooseprickles across her skin. “It would be ill-manners if we don’t.” She retorted, moving close to him and brushing her nose against his neck.

 

He pulled her closer and rasped in her ear, “I wouldn’t care a damn if our children weren’t watching.” Just then, the song ended, leaving a vibrant blush across Daenerys’ cheeks and neck. They walked back to the dais, engaging themselves in conversations with their children and the other attendees. Jon could only take so much of dancing and reveling before he stood up, taking his wife’s hand in his and politely excused themselves for the rest of the night.

 

Leaving the guards behind, they strolled towards their newly built chambers and around a dark corner, Jon took her hand and broke into a sprint.

 

“Jon, what are you doing? Someone might see us.” Daenerys giggled, her breath intoxicatingly sweet and full of aromas of spices and wine.

 

They were barely past the doors of the solar when Jon took her shoulders and turning his wife around, pushed her against the cold, marble wall.

 

“You can’t look like _that_ and expect me to remain sane,” Jon growled, stroking his fingers over her sides and then reaching behind her to flush her against him, he kissed her flagrantly over her lips and jaw.

 

“You’re drunk, husband” Daenerys breathed pushing his shoulders as he bent and leveled his face with the pulse of her neck and nipped her soft skin with his warm mouth.

 

“And yet, you want me, wife” Jon groaned, palming her breasts and flicking the aroused peaks with his thumb. "Jon", she sighed in desire and tugged at his tunic, wanting him to rid of it and feel his bare skin against her own. “Take me to bed. _Now._ ” Not needing further prodding, he scooped her in his arms, lowering her when they reached their inner chambers and twirling her silver hair between his fingers, Jon whispered, “We’re here, tell me what you need.”

 

Daenerys chuckled bringing his lips to her and whispered, “I suppose, we both want the same thing.”

 

“And what would that be?” Jon innocently asked, carding his fingers in her hair and slanting her face to his.

 

Daenerys pulled back and reached for the stays behind her neck, letting her dress pool at her feet. Stepping aside, she stripped away her corset and small clothes, discarded them in a pile. Without a stitch of cloth on her, porcelain skin glorious and bare to his lustful eyes, once again her beauty took his breath away as it had done all those years ago when he had seen her for the first time. Gasping heatedly when Jon took her in his arms and moved down, teasing her nipple with a graze of his sharp teeth, she weaved her fingers in his hair as he sucked those rosy, pebbled tips in his mouth. He stroked one side with the curl of his tongue before moving his face desirously between her breasts, his hair prickling her soft skin. She offered a prurient smile and pulling him up, reached for his velvet tunic. She unfastened the catches and slid the tunic down his shoulder, moved to undo the laces of his breeches, freeing his manhood with a wicked smile gracing her lips, visibly pleased with what she saw. An uncontrollable desire took over and Jon drew her in, slipping a hand between her slick, nether lips. "Umm.." he groaned as his finger dipped inside her wetness and his thumb found the stiff pearl between her legs. Daenerys rolled her fingers over his length, circling his urge, massaging it, and unabashedly locking her eyes with his.

 

He gazed at her in awe - she always had that effect over him, and he grinned when his hardness wept in need. “It would seem, I need more than your hand,” he said, pulling her lips between his, lifting her leg with one hand, using the free hand he shoved himself in her the same time as he pushed her into the bed bringing the distance between them to nothing.

 

"Gods" she chanted as the distant sounds of songs and laughter faded into oblivion and the air was filled with sounds of flesh and pleasure. The pleasure of having Jon inside her, filling her empty bits and his naked body pressed against her own was a feeling like no other. He moved in slow, shallow strokes at first but when Daenerys dug her nails in his arms, he pulled out of her before finding a more pleasurable slant that made her go wild with thrill. "Come for me, love" Jon groaned as his hips snapped towards her core. "Jon.," she whined, clutching his arms, clutching tightly to her dear life itself. He could rent her in two with his rough strokes and thick girth and she would not fault him for it. Feeling her body tense beneath him, he gathered her up, with an arm underneath her back and changed to a slower pace, "better now, love?"

 

"Aye," she smiled coyly, reaching for the nape of his neck and twining her fingers in his hair. Jon kept a steady but less brutal pace and she whimpered every time he parted his length from between her slick lips before rubbing it against her swollen nub and pushing it back again between her legs. Daenerys teared up in thrill when her peak arrived and Jon groaned wildly as he crested and then slumped, breathing hot air in the curve of her neck and pressed his face in her shiny hair. She hummed softly and Jon shifted his weight from above her. He pulled her into his arms and kissing her lips with the gentleness he seemed to have forgotten earlier, he whispered, "I love you. Happy nameday, Daenerys."

 

"I love you too, husband," Daenerys replied, running her fingers against his cheeks and bringing his face to her lips for a kiss. She closed her eyes and reverently inhaled Jon's scent, feeling him in her veins before sleep cradled them both in its peaceful embrace.

 

*

 

He strolled to a large window and poured himself a cup of water when the first rays of dawn began filtering in through the sheer curtains. Daenerys sensed his absence from the bed and looked around for him, her gaze traveling to the window. She admired his chiseled body handsomely illuminated by the nascent light and the silver-grey hair of age shining like the silver-gold of the Valyrians.

 

Daenerys observed him curiously and raised herself on the elbow to take a better look at her comely husband.

 

“Daenerys, I’m tired.” Jon shared, sipping the water and leaning in the window.

 

“So soon, my love?” she teased.

 

Jon laughed heartily, “no, _never_ of this.”

 

“I’ve been thinking for a long time now, it’s time Aenar wears the crown.”

 

Throwing a robe over her shoulder, Daenerys sauntered towards the window. She caressed his cheeks lovingly, her hand then glided lower, above the many scars over his body that were as much a part of him as his handsome face and the grey hair that time had given him. She wreathed him in her arms, “Don’t say that, Jon. Gods be good, you’ll live for more than a hundred years, longer than the Old King, longer than any Targaryen or Stark has ever lived.”

 

“Gods forbid, Daenerys! A hundred years is too long a time.” Jon laughed and drew her closer, “I want to see what kind of a monarch we’ve raised. I want to die in knowing of whether our son is everything we’ve hoped for, or …”

 

“Hush now, Jon. Aenar will never fail us, how could you even think it? He’s all you.”

 

“And undoubtedly you! You’re the dreamer, Daenerys Targaryen. If not for your dreams and stubbornness, we may never have come this far trying to build a better world for our people.”

 

Jon took her hand and went back to bed, propping himself against the ornate headrest and beckoning Daenerys with his open arms to come closer to him.

 

“Soon it would be two decades since our rule began. I think it’s time we walk away from it all.” He briefly looked away when she nodded and then tipped her chin to him. “There’s another matter”

 

“What is it?” she asked, breaking her silence and finding herself uneasy at the conflict she saw in Jon’s eyes.

 

“Where will we live?”

 

“Our home is at Dragonstone, Jon.” Daenerys paled slightly. “Naerys is already wed, soon our other children will wed too and have children of their own. I.. I don’t want to miss that. I want us to watch our grandchildren grow and be a part of their lives in ways we could not be there for our own.”

 

“A ruling monarch and a former monarch living together would cause conflict, Daenerys. And I want to keep away from the court. We’ve done our part, now let us be selfish for once.” He smiled. “Brandon spends most of his time in the mainland. Naerys is in Yi Ti, someday Rhaenna will wed and leave, and Aenar is already of age when he should have his own family as soon as we can convince him to wed.” Jon continued, “It’s not likely we won’t see them again. They will all come wherever we go. They’re like birds, no matter how far they fly, they’ll always return to the nest.”

 

“Do you wish to return north then?”

 

“Nay, not north. Here.” Jon looked around. “This can be our home if you agree.”

 

Daenerys looked around and smiled. “I agree. We should be there to aid Aenar for a time and then we walk away, spend time between here and Dragonstone.”

 

“Thank you, Daenerys.” Jon sighed in relief and kissed her.

 

_Queen Daenerys and King Jon abdicated in favor of their son, Aenar Targaryen and aided him with matters of the realm and its politics for two more years before permanently moving their household to Summerhall where they lived for the rest of their lives._

 

_**Summerhall (two years later) ** _

 

“Rhaenna,” Jon said ecstatically, “we missed you, daughter. Welcome to Summerhall!”

 

“Did Aenar not come with you?” Daenerys asked, looking around.

 

“He..” Rhaenna hesitated, breaking away from her mother’s embrace. “He’ll be here before father’s nameday, Muna. He went north, to Winterfort. Muna, do you know Aenar himself wants to lead the attack in the Frostfangs? He says what kind of king he would be if he isn’t willing to lead his armies from the front.”

 

“What?” Daenerys' face ashened.

 

“Brandon is there too,” Rhaenna informed worriedly.

 

“Lord Stark sent us a raven that Dragons Swords, Teeth and Spears passed the Neck and made way towards the Fangs but it said nothing about my sons.”

 

“Muna, the Weeper’s Son spreads terror from Frostfangs to the Valley and beyond. He and his band of outlaws trouble the miners’ families, steal their women and girls and then hide into the woods or retreat far north. Some believe they feast on human flesh.” Rhaenna hesitated “I was there Muna when I worked with the healers. I saw them when they attacked the village, the miner’s children and I hid in a cave for two days before the Crown's troops could arrive for the aid.” Wiping her angry tears with the back of her hand, Rhaenna intoned regretfully, “...it’s my fault... I sent a raven to Aenar and said he’s not doing enough…”

 

 _Why didn’t you have guards with you?_ Daenerys though of chiding her because it was not the first time Rhaenna had ignored her safety and wandered into far off lands with anyone knowing but she didn’t when Rhaenna began to shake with anger. Instead, she pulled her into an embrace. “Sssh.. some men are cowards, Rhaenna. They feel powerful when they hurt others. It’s not your fault. Aenar needed to be made aware of the seriousness of the matter.”

 

Daenerys heard her patiently and sent for the maidservants to escort the Princess to her chambers and draw her a warm bath. “I’ll see you at supper, Rhaenna.” She then turned to Jon who himself bore a worried expression. “Fools! Both my sons! Must they be so stupid to go fight mere fugitives when we have an army and battle commanders who’re trained for this day?” She said, clenching her fists into balls. “We must go to them, Jon.”

 

Jon had heard the details and shook his head. “We shouldn’t. He’s the King.”

 

“He’s our son! And we’re still his advisors.”

 

“Daenerys, look at me, he’s _our_ _King_ ,” Jon stressed. “If he thinks he must lead the combat, we can do nothing to stop him. He cannot be seen hiding behind his mother’s skirts.”

 

“My skirts?” Daenerys glared at her husband.

 

“Your dragons.” Jon smiled apologetically. “The lords won’t see it that way though. But you understand what I mean. Don’t you? A long time ago a formidable woman asked me what kind of a queen she’d be if she wasn’t willing to sacrifice her life for her people. Sounds familiar?”

 

“But they’re our sons!” Daenerys stated, voice full of distress and concern.

 

“They’re now the custodians of realm’s wellbeing before they’re our sons.”

 

_**Frostfangs & the Valley of Thenns ** _

 

With the snows melting and summer returning to Westeros, the Wall had shrunk and collapsed, demarcating the lands beyond the Wall from the rest of Westeros through a series of submerged forts, newly formed lakes and bogs and hastily built causeways. The construction of the Dragonsroad that would join the lands beyond the Wall to the North had been ongoing for five years and a number of canals were being dug to direct the waters from the Wall either into the sea or further down the North to provide for cultivation of lands that had emerged from years of snowy slumber.

 

The troops' march to the Frostfangs had been slow and excruciatingly longer than earlier anticipated but the Crown's might had come to the aid of the people. The Weeper’s Son’s outlaw group had been joined and boosted by a group of outlawed Ironborn from the western shores who were found returning to their old ways and it would be a month before they were all killed or captured.

 

During the final standoff, the rebels had been pushed and trapped in the dense woods of the Valley of Thenns. Prince Brandon Targaryen crested the valley and commanded the archers to rain flaming arrows, taking the enemy by surprise. He then drew Dark Sister and nodded at his King who was watching him from a distance, before beginning his descent and charge at the enemy. The King, Aenar Targaryen led the cavalry van, sweeping down on the enemy lines after their formations had splintered. The two hosts met in a bloody battle that lasted all day, the first of few in the reign of the 'Boy King' as the Weeper's Son had mockingly called him.

 

The captured fugitives were caught and sent to Winterfort, the stronghold of the Kingdom Beyond-the-Wall, to answer for their crimes and await King’s justice. There weren’t any Ironborn survivors since they much rather preferred death than their Princess’s wrath. The Iron Islands was one of the three kingdoms besides Dorne and the Kingdom Beyond-the-Wall that had partial independence and heads of whose Great Houses bore the titles of Princes and Princesses. Neither of the three kingdoms, however, had been given leave to raise armies of their own.

 

King Aenar hugged his brother when all was done. “I need you at Dragonstone, Ser Brandon Targaryen.”

 

“I’ll be there soon. It’s a promise, my King.” Brandon smiled “There’s a matter at the Riverlands’ Citadel.”

 

“What kind of matter?” Aenar smirked, flexing his fingers and drawing leather gloves over his hands.

 

“You’ll find out soon. Assuming my sister hasn’t informed you already!” Brandon laughed. He paused briefly before cautiously asking, “Are you returning to Dragonstone?”

 

“No, I have a matter of my own to resolve.” Aenar took a troubled breath and fixed his eyes on the distant snow-covered peaks.

 

“Summerhall?”

 

“Aye, Summerhall.” Aenar sighed.

 

"All will be well, brother." Brandon offered in his comforting voice and then whistled aloud. A large direwolf came running and stood as tall as Brandon's ribs. “Come, boy.” Brandon ruffled the mane of his moss-eyed direwolf, Raven. “My King” he bowed and strode towards his destrier and Aenar turned his head to the skies where Viserion let out a loud keen.

 

_**Riverlands ** _

 

_Twins _

 

Brandon dismounted and warmly hugged uncle Gendry, a well-built, handsome man, blue of eyes and dark of hair. Uncle Gendry belonged to a noble House but rarely spoke of his heritage. Brandon’s mother had always loved uncle Gendry as her kin and he, in turn, doted on her like a brother. His and aunt Arya’s children, Eddard and Benjen were around the same age as Brandon and they grew up together as brothers in all but name.

 

It was aunt Arya who all those years ago had realized that Brandon was a warg and she helped him understand the magic in his blood and learn to wield that gift. Brandon attributed his formidable swordsmanship and archery to his aunt’s training. He was a son of North in many ways and donned himself in the grey of Starks and blood-red of Targaryens and carried Dark Sister on his back until he reached a height and later started wearing it on his hip. The sword had been found by Lady Meera Stark when she had accompanied his namesake beyond the Wall.

 

“Bran! Words of your bravery have reached far and wide, lad.” Uncle Gendry patted him on the back, “Your aunt is proud and _furious_ with you! Apparently, my sister and good-brother were left in dark about your purposes.”

 

“I suppose I should begin by groveling then.” Bran laughed. “Is aunt home?”

 

“Aye”

 

_**Battle Valley Citadel (Riverlands) ** _

 

“I can no longer reason with my King why I cannot leave Citadel moons after my assignment here has ended,” Brandon whispered to the woman tending his wounds from the battle. “I’d like you to meet my mother and father; if you agree.”

 

Brandon had met one Lady Melissa at the new citadel at Battle Valley when he was on Crown’s duty overseeing the training of an elite force of warriors.

 

Melissa had been training as an apprentice under Maester Giles, a skillful healer. She had an oval face, fair skin, pink lips, dark eyes, and dark hair. She was tall and slender and carried the pride and the blood of the first men in her.

 

Brandon had had several run-ins with her during his stay at the Citadel. _Mostly for cuts and scrapes._ She was probably beginning to think the Prince did not deserve the famous Targaryen blade. She neither tried to entice the handsome Dark Prince nor did she submit to his title.

 

Brandon learned many things about her in that one year. She was kind-hearted and generous under her steel visage. She carried the burden of her House for she was the only surviving child of Lord Edmund Blackwood whose brothers had perished in wars and his only sister Bethany was married to a Vale lord.

 

“I thought you would never ask.” She replied with an endearing smile.

 

_**Summerhall ** _

 

 

“Muna, there’s something I need to ask.”

 

Daenerys knew it in her heart before he had said those words. Perhaps she had always known and had been unwilling to _see_ it. “You’re the King, Aenar. You don’t need my permission for anything.”

 

“But I must, Muna.” Aenar had inherited his father’s broodiness more than any of her children.

 

“What if your father won’t approve?”

 

“You know?” Aenar smiled like a child. His smile was a rare gem. The few things that really made him smile were his family, his high harp, and the rare books that Jon often brought for him from the free cities. “You approve?”

 

“You may be the King but I’m still your mother.” Daenerys smiled, a small curve of lips with a quietness about it. “I don’t know what I think of it, my son. I can only say, I understand. What if your father doesn’t agree?”

 

“Then I shall wait. I won’t marry without his approval.”

 

“And what about Rhaenna?” Daenerys inquired, voice full of anxious nervousness.

 

“Rhaenna agrees. She won’t return to Dragonstone until then.” Aenar lowered his eyes in sadness. “I won’t hang threats over you or the realm. I will continue performing my duties if that is what you wished, but please don’t ask me to wed another.”

 

With tears in eyes and a fear of the unknown, Daenerys caressed his cheek. “I love you, son. Your father too, and we’re both very proud of you. Always remember that.”

 

*

 

Jon listened to Daenerys with stunned silence and then rubbed his forehead. “I thought I was doing right by our people and everything else a king is supposed to do. But this? My own family? How did things go so wrong, Daenerys? Why did we not see anything?”

 

“Because we didn’t want to,” Daenerys whispered “Aenar has been resisting all our suggestions for a potential bride. Aenar and Rhaenna have always been close and I should’ve understood during the last feast, but I think I didn’t want to see it either. Aenar isn’t like anyone else, Jon. He doesn’t act on whims, he’s dutiful to a fault.”

 

“What about the lords? They’d blame him for returning to the old Targaryen ways. I don’t want a rebellion at his hands. The peace is a fragile thing and once it breaks, there’s no knowing which way the winds will blow.” Jon panicked.

 

“We don’t follow their customs, we don’t interfere in their familial matters, or arrange marriages between Houses and dictate who they wed or who they don’t.” Daenerys tried to reason. But even after years of making compromises, there always lived a dragon inside her that refused to become a slave of people’s opinions. “And what will they rebel with? They’d marshal the Dragon’s Spears and the Dragon’s Teeth to their cause? Those are _our_ forces, _our son,_ Brandon Targaryen commands them and he answers to the King, not to any of those lords.”

 

“I don’t know Daenerys. Things change. Maybe not now, a hundred years later?” Jon mused.

 

Daenerys took his hand in hers. “Another Aegon ordered his children to wed outside of the family. What came of it? My grandsire ordered my father and mother to wed and look what came of it.” she spoke with sadness. “The events of the future are beyond our reach, Jon. Our children aren’t betrothed to anyone, and as far as the lords are concerned, we returned to the old ways when we wed. You married me knowing who I am, even knowing I may never give you the heirs you deserved.”

 

He vehemently shook his head and kissed her. “Never say that, Daenerys. You’ve given me so much more than I deserved. I wanted to marry you because I loved _you_. Not for your name or your armies and dragons. We don’t choose who we fall in love with.”

 

She smiled mysteriously. “Aye, we don’t choose and who else would understand more than us?”

 

“What will I tell Rickon, Arya, and Sansa?

 

“I can only hope they’ll understand. More likely, they already know.” She then pleaded, “Jon, I can’t bear to see our children unhappy or mayhaps never see them all under the same roof. I only see Naerys once in a few years. You and my children are all I have.”

 

“Truly, my Queen, erstwhile ruler of Kingdoms of East and West, we are all you have?” Jon humored.

 

“Truly, my King. I’ll follow you to the red waste or the frozen grey the day you decide that’s where you wanted to be.”

 

 

_**Dragonstone ** _

 

Jon and Daenerys returned to Dragonstone for a wedding.

 

Aenar had their old chambers prepared for them. “Kepa, is everything to your liking?”

 

“I’m home, son, with my sons and daughters, your mother, it can’t be anything but perfect.” Jon gently patted Aenar’s back as he looked around.

 

“And me, big kepa?” Chirped Valyria, Naerys’s two-year-old daughter. Naerys’ husband, Emperor Bu Qian, could not be present himself and sent a large amethyst and silver throne for Aenar and his Queen.

 

“You’re my life, little one! Big Kepa is not letting you go back this time.” Jon stretched his arms and secured Valyria in his lap.

 

Daenerys smiled and leaned into Naerys’ ear, “what happened with the rebels?”

 

“Yi Ti is peaceful now, Muna. We’ve pushed them all to Carcosa.”

 

“Naerys, if you need any aid, you only need to say, you know it, right?”

 

“I know, Muna,” said Naerys and kissed Daenerys’ cheeks. She then looked longingly at Valyria.

 

“What is it?” Daenerys asked.

 

“Sometimes I think Valyria will hate me. With these wars and rebellions, I don’t see her as often..”

 

Daenerys stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, “No, she won’t.”

 

Naerys looked at the mischievous smile on Daenerys’ lips and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Oh Muna, how is it that after all these years you still feel soft as silk and smell the same?” She teased her mother and tickled her like she did Valyria. “Stop, Naerys! Stop!” Daenerys breathed between her laughter.

 

At dusk, they all gathered at the dragon’s lair. Jon and Daenerys and the answers to their prayers. He kissed the top of both his daughters’ heads as they leaned on his shoulders and Valyria sat in his lap, cooing and playing with her ivory dragon. Brandon had visited with his betrothed Melissa whom Daenerys welcomed by her side. “I have three daughters now” she had said. Daenerys looked young and carefree when her sons lowered their heads in their mother’s lap like they did when they were boys of two and six. They all watched the dragons fly and the sun giving way to the moon and stars.

 

Jon and Daenerys turned to look into each other’s shimmering eyes as they whispered, “ _thank you_ ” at the same time. _I have never been happier,_ Jon thought. Once again.

 

*

 

Aenar and Rhaenna wed in an Old Gods’ ceremony at the Dragonstone Godswood in presence of their Targaryen and Stark families.

 

Princess Rhaenna took her father’s arm as she walked towards the man she was in love with.

 

“Who comes before the Old Gods?”

 

“Rhaenna of House Targaryen.”

 

“Who gives her?”

 

Jon lovingly pressed his hand against the back of Rhaenna’s hand that had been circled around his arm. and proudly declared, “Her father”

 

“Who claims her?” he then asked.

 

“Aenar of House Targaryen” Aenar smiled.

 

Jon smiled and kissed the top of his daughter’s ornately braided hair before turning around and dropping on his knees to carry Valyria in his arms.

 

“Why are you crying?” Valyria whispered in Jon’s ear, wiping a stray droplet of tear from his cheeks. Jon laughed and hugged his granddaughter to his chest, “I’m not. I’m very happy.”

 

Daenerys quietly watched from afar, as Jon’s guarded face lit-up with emotions. She found Naerys smiling secretively at Aenar, a smile so teasing, Aenar blushed and his hand went to his chest and head bowed in affection.

 

Melissa had a wide grin on her face as she watching the ceremony with gleaming eyes and Daenerys averted her gaze when Brandon leaned in and whispered sweet words into her ears, making her blush brighter than the cloak on her son’s back.

 

Rhaenna offered Aenar a gentle, comforting smile and ran her fingers on his arm till Aenar spread his large hand and took her petite one in his firm grip. Rhaenna bit her lip when Aenar kissed her knuckles before kneeling before the Gods and a heaven of affection engulfed Daenerys to see her family complete and so full of joy after years of struggles and uncertainties.

 

With Valyria in one arm, Jon returned by Daenerys’ side and brushed his lips against the forehead of the woman he loved, before turning his eyes to the sons and the daughters he doted upon.

 

Daenerys leaned on Jon’s arm, tears of joy soaking her husband’s doublet, grateful for having found the man who stood by her, kept his every oath and gave her everything she could have ever imagined. She smiled remembering another time, another day when Jon had cloaked her and brought her under the shield of his love. “Remember something?” Jon whispered and circled his arm around her. Daenerys nodded, "how can I ever forget" and tightened her grip around him, pressing a soft kiss against his arm.

 

“I love you” She spoke, turning herself into Jon’s chest. His chin was pressed against her hair and before closing his eyes, he exhaled a sigh of completion and content. “And I, you.”

 

 *~*~*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the "family photo/collage", I have zero skills with photo apps but just wanted to give you a glimpse into how I imagine Naerys, Aenar, Brandon & Rhaenna looked.
> 
> Also, none of these individual pics belong to me (obviously) so if anyone has concerns regd the source, copyrights etc, please educate me. I picked up photos from various sites on the internet. Goes without saying, big fan of Lee Pace and TH. :)


	31. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the end, we're only dust and memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been struggling whether or not to post this last chapter due to its sadness quotient but I'd just remain true to the "story" I wanted to tell. Besides, I wish to get it out before the season starts so that I don't have an unfinished work and feel guilty about it. :))
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING: If you're not a fan of angst or overtly sad, sappy things, I politely request you press the BACK button. NOW! 
> 
>  
> 
> To the brave souls who will venture further - this chapter has been particularly overwhelming to write or re-read either. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of mistakes, but I leave it here.
> 
> I'm just another person who is writing "their" idea of the ending.
> 
> *

**_Epilogue_ **

 

Naerys Targaryen rode Ariael, a she-dragon with black scales and gold belly, she named for her beloved aunt. The dragon had hatched at the Dragonstone and accepted Naerys as her rider for when the dragon was young, Naerys often brought her a leg of lamb stolen from the kitchens.

 

Naerys was headstrong and willful, exceptionally beautiful, and deadly with a sword. Daenerys often found it was easier to convince all three younger children put together than arguing with her oldest daughter. She often japed why she offered Visenya’s chambers to Jon and Jon would tease her back, “I don’t remember you complaining back then.” Daenerys always blushed at those memories.

 

Naerys held Essos close to her heart. When she was ten and six, she left Westeros for good. It broke her parents’ hearts, but they would not stop their children from making their own choices and forging a path of their own. Their children were not raised to be a shadow of anyone. 

 

People of Bay of Dragons welcomed her with open arms. She had with her, the Dothraki Khalasar who chose to return to their homeland. Well-versed in many tongues, she had learned from aunt Missandei, Naerys always twitched to explore the distant lands.

 

At the age of eight and ten, she married Bu Qian, the heir, and son of Yi Ti’s Azure Emperor, whom she had met on a voyage to the Jade Sea. Bu Qian ascended the throne a year later when his father, the Emperor perished fighting the rebels.

 

Empress Naerys Targaryen Shi gave birth to two beautiful children, Princess Bu Valyria and Prince Bu Yongyan. She made a home in Yi Ti but always remembered where she came from. She often came back to the home of her childhood to be with her parents and siblings and both her babes were born on Dragonstone.

 

Later in life, Jon would bequeath his Valyrian steel blade, Longclaw, to his daughter Naerys for he wanted her to carry a part of him far away from home. _A daughter is always more precious to a father,_ he shared with Daenerys.

 

*

 

Aenar was chosen by Viserion and the day he was crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms, Daenerys remembered the dragon’s namesake and wondered if, in some way, a part of him would be happy to have finally returned home and been a _King_.

 

*

 

Brandon Targaryen or the winged-wolf, as people fondly called him, spent most of his time in the Riverlands and received the title of _Prince of Summerhall_. His first-born with Princess Melissa Blackwood Targaryen was a son, Aemon Targaryen and their second child, a daughter named Baela Targaryen inherited the Raventree Hill.

 

*

 

Rhaenna ruled as Queen, as an equal, by Aenar’s side and was said to be his most trusted confidante and advisor. Even without a sword or a dragon of her own, she was fearless, proud and righteous to a fault. She was trained in the art of healing at the New Citadel at the Battle Valley and had been a close comrade with Princess Melissa Blackwood Targaryen. There was a cautioned wisdom and shrewdness in her that made her indispensable when it came to the art of politicking. She decreed that a separate women’s court be held in every kingdom and only women were allowed to serve as Master of Law for those courts. Her love for books and her curiosity could only be matched with Aenar’s and it was often said that the only time the two monarchs quarreled was when they debated over the written word or translation of words from the tongues of the east to the common tongue. Rhaenna was the mother to crown Princess Alysanne, Prince Jaehaerys, and Princess Daena.

 

*

 

A few years after the War of Dawn, the Dragonstone guards had stumbled upon a nest of dragon eggs in the mined caves and when Queen Daenerys Targaryen was informed, her eyes gleamed with hope for a brief moment before she steeled her back and commanded that the eggs be left alone.

 

Daenerys Targaryen had seen more death and losses any human soul could fathom. She had lost a babe and had no memory of her giving him birth or seeing him or holding him in her arms. She had put an end to the life of her husband, once a great Khal, with her own two hands. She had borne a curse on her womb for many years and had forsaken love for duty towards her House when she refused to wed the only man she ever truly loved. The birth of her younger two children had been difficult and she had thought she might perish in the birthing bed or worse, her babes would. The losses she had endured made Daenerys, the woman, submit to a sense of mortality and futility of life that the Dragon Queen did not feel.

 

When Daenerys needed strength to fulfill her dreams for a better world, she had found it in her dragons. They saw her through her many tribulations in Essos, they were the bringers of freedom for the slaves, bringers of the Dawn for the living and Daenerys Targaryen remembered all of that. She needed to be a mother to her dragons, allow them to choose their fate as she would hope her children and many coming generations of her House would too. “Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor.” She whispered and Jon looked at her with awe and pride. “The dragons are a mighty creation of nature and I cannot let their fate be tied to a House, makes no matter if the House is _ours_.”

 

_And just like that, she had freed the dragons from chains._

 

Like ordinary men did not try to tame mammoths or lions, the Targaryens no longer tamed or chained their dragons or locked them in dungeons. No Dragonpits were ever built to contain their raw power. Daenerys Targaryen had paid in blood and brought forth the dragons’ dying bloodlines to life. The dragons and Targaryens would be milk brothers and their blood would forever remember that. The future generations of Targaryens lived by the words their Mother was fond of reminding them, _the dragons remember and so should you, the blood of Dragons._

 

The dragons lived and roamed freely around the volcano at Dragonstone and those that made ruins of Valyria their home, are said to have always returned when a Targaryen was born on Dragonstone; some willingly accepting the Targaryens as their riders. It is a widely sung lore that if foes lined up against their House, the dragons flocked in strength and stood behind the blood of Jon and Daenerys until no one dared.

 

 *

 

In the year of the false winter, Jon and Daenerys’ life journey ended at Summerhall. Daenerys did not leave Summerhall after the love of her life passed away. Not even when her children begged her to come stay with them for a while. With Jon’s leaving, a chill had set in the heart of the dragoness. Some said she would speak to him in the rose gardens. The bards sang that his soul lingered behind, that he fought death and nothingness just to be with her. She heard the whispers but never heard the bards sing. Nevertheless, she would not have taken offense to any of it because that sounded like something _her Jon_ would do. She would often sit outside where the cold winds would cut through her skin and poke her like shards of ice. She spoke to him in those moments. Maybe he answered, maybe not. But she heard him. _She always heard him._

 

His resting place was not Winterfell or Dragonstone. It was Summerhall, where his beloved lived, for he would not rest anywhere else in peace. In less than a year, she followed him.

 

Years later, Rhaegal bonded with Alysanne and Aemon’s daughter, Princess Visenya. Drogon flew east and was rarely seen on Dragonstone.

 

 

**_I will always find you_ **

 

 

When His Grace, Jon Targaryen, Blood of the Dragon, Father to the Targaryen dynasty, breathed his last, like all Dragon Kings of yore, his end was writ in flames. 

 

“The King was of the North, his ashes should rest at the Crypts.” A lord said. “The King was a Targaryen, my lord.” Interjected another, and on it went. “His ashes must be spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms…“

 

“He was R’llor’s champion...”

 

“He was Mhysa’s King and has a place in the Temple of Graces…”

 

Daenerys heard them all in silence. Holding a mournful scream and tears inside her, she found herself transformed into another place, another time.

 

_“The mightiest of Dothraki Khals will be put to shame when you ride at the helm of the Khalasar today,” Daenerys said, braiding Jon’s hair and tying silver bells to it. “...it’s like you were meant to wear them.”_

_He turned around and looked up at her, his hands resting on her knees. “Hmm?”_

_“It’s true,” she smiled and tilted her chin in pride “there’s something about you... you look like a true Northman when you’re in the North. You look like a Stark with Ghost by your side, you look like a true dragon when you’re atop Rhaegal.”_

_“You don’t think I may be a chameleon?” Jon chuckled._

_“No” she chuckled, covering her mouth with fingers and then observed him closely, “you look at home with all these different people and that is why they all fall in love with you.”_

_Taking her hands in his, Jon pulled her down for a kiss, “Have you considered it may be true only when you’re around? I have always been an outsider, Daenerys but I’m always home when I’m with you.”_

_  
_

Daenerys hiccupped in agony and lifted the gold urn with a swoop of her hand and clutching it to her chest, walked out with it.

 

She didn’t hear the voices from behind and emptied the urn in the bed of flowers Jon had nurtured with his own hands. “There! There’s where he’ll rest. In his home, with me!” At last her knees buckled and she cried in agony, making no efforts to restrain her tears and her wails. Arya and Rhaenna were by her side, soothing her with words that Daenerys never heard.

 

Most nights Arya found her sitting alone in cold and she silently sat beside her.

 

“Dany,” Arya placed her hand on her shoulder, “this cannot go on..”

 

“It hurts.” Dany whispered, ignoring Arya’s words, “if the Gods were merciful, they’d make it end.”

 

“Oh, Dany” Arya pulled her in an embrace and the dam of tears broke between them. “Jon would want you to be brave.”

 

“I don’t have to be. He's not there to see, is he?” She replied stubbornly, wiping a stream of tears from her cheeks.

 

“He's always with you. Even when he used to be away, his heart was always with you.”

 

“Words are wind, Arya.” Daenerys whispered to _herself_.

 

Daenerys spent her last days with her visiting grandchildren Valyria, Yongyan, Alysanne, Jaehaerys, Daena, Aemon, and Baela. All of whom were grown up now but she still shared with them the tales of brave, wise, men and women she and Jon had once told Naerys, Aenar, Brandon, and Rhaenna when they were younger.

 

Aemon was the dark-haired, grey-eyed son of her son, Brandon. ‘ _He’s your favorite, isn't he grand-muña?’,_ Alysanne, Princess and heir to the Seven Kingdoms, and Aemon’s wife, accused good-heartedly. Daenerys often wondered _why_. 

 

Within days of Jon's passing, Alysanne had announced that she was with child and tears welled up in Daenerys' eyes, _would that Jon had lived to see his great-grandchild_. She, however, had that joyous honor and the evening of their great-granddaughter, Visenys's birth, Daenerys shared her happiness with Jon when she sat outside in the rose gardens and spoke to him, as always.

 

A moon later, Daenerys quietly passed away and for the first time, fire consumed her as she left her mortal existence to unite with her beloved.

 

*~*~*

 

 

She met him at dusk. With a cold breeze bearing down on her skin and blurring her vision. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms and then, she saw _him_.

 

In his arms and sobbing in his chest, not remembering any of the things she had wanted to say to him for leaving her alone, she whispered, “It’s so cold here. You must be happy.. you always liked the cold.”

 

Jon wiped his moist eyes with the back of his hand. “No, I'm not. I fooled myself into believing that I liked cold. I just didn’t know what warmth felt like” he said, taking her face between his palms and kissing her, “until you.”

 

They were both younger, much younger. It was before the time she had met him in her past life. She looked around with a hitched breath. Gone were her Dragons and armies, her Queensguard and knights.

 

“There are no monsters here, Daenerys. Just us. _Together_ , for eternity.” He had read her eyes, as always.

 

Jon brought his lips to her mouth once again and kissed her. He pulled back to see Daenerys' beautiful face, smilingly he twined his arms around her waist, pressed his cheeks against her crown and she inhaled him then. _Winter and pine, ash and smoke,_ those were his scents, and they were all present. “You left me.” She complained and with a hand pressed against his heart, she fearfully looked for gashes and scars of which there were none. _He still flexed his sword hand_ , she observed with pained eyes.

 

“I didn’t want to.” He smiled sadly and grasped her face in his hands. "We're together now." Jon peered into her lilac eyes and smiled softly, the same smile that had stolen her heart in life, "I love you, I will always love you.”

 

Daenerys' vision turned bleary, she clutched him tightly and then threading herself into Jon’s arms, she whispered, “you're all I ever wanted.”

 

*~*~*

_I_ _am deeply carried over with your memory,_

_that fleeting and joyful ones, which always still have the certain grandeur in me;_

_if you take this heart of mine, it will be yours;_

_for I  am made of those veins,_

_those beating pulses,_

_those blood that flows in unison with your mind._

 

— Chuck Akot,  ** _“The Certain Grandeur In Me.”_**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really sorry about how unorganized this whole thing has been.
> 
> I thank everyone who stayed with me for this long. For all the kudos and comments, for just coming here to read, I am grateful. 
> 
> I don't know if 'iia' would read this, but girl, if you do, ilysm! <3
> 
> Thank you, everyone, who takes time to read novice writers. I know it must be a pain in the arse at times just to try and understand what we're trying to convey but when you make time and leave any indication of you being there for us, it means the world.
> 
> To everyone who has made time to leave a comment - you ALL are much better writers than I (and those who don't write fanfics or stories, believe me, I can't write shit for comments even when I love someone's work and want to convey it to them haha) You all have been just too kind and welcoming. I can't thank you enough for leaving your thoughts and ideas on this work.
> 
> A huge THANK YOU to everyone who left Kudos cuz frankly, I'd not have written without that carrot. (I'm quite apprehensive as well as lazy that way)
> 
> My dear 'GUEST' readers, men and women, boys and girls (of legal age, :D ) you're my nameless knights in shining armor! I owe you a LOT! 
> 
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language & this my first attempt at writing. 
> 
> All mistakes are of my own making. Suggestions as well as corrections are welcome.
> 
> *** I encourage you to read the 5th chapter if you like to know where things stand. *** 
> 
> Thoughts?


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